Daria: Back To Highland A DariaWorm Crossover
by Meester Lee
Summary: Daria Morgendorffer, an independent super-heroine living in Lawndale, Maryland, is called up by the Protectorate and is dispatched to Highland, Texas to deal with the recently-triggered Beavis and Butthead. Dark humor and mayhem ensue
1. Chapter 1

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover

DISCLAIMER: Daria was created by Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Worm was created by John C. "Wildbow" McCrae. I own neither franchise and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work of fiction. People wanting the real deal should watch the MTV Daria videos or seek out Wildbow's web serial.

It is now October, 1999 in Lawndale, Maryland

_Back to Highland: A Daria/Worm Crossover. _Chapter One

Lawndale, Maryland  
October, 1999

Daria Morgendorffer finished toweling off, went to her locker, and started getting dressed. She hoped her trainer would think that she had a good workout. This exercise thing was not something she was used to. She felt her phone start buzzing. She had two: her personal phone, which generally didn't bother her that much when it started buzzing, and also her official Parahuman Response Team cell phone. The problem with registering as an independent hero was that despite the fact that she was nominally an independent, she could be called up if a some sufficiently large-scale Parahuman or more natural disaster came to pass.

She saw the caller ID. PRT Headquarters. She'd have to check in.

_Damn_.

She phoned in. Her call went directly to Lady Columbia, head of the local Parahuman Response Team.

"Morgendorffer!" said Lady Columbia. As much as Daria despised militarism and the militaristic mindset that had made such a hot mess of her father, there was something that made her say "Yes, Ma'am!" to Lady Columbia.

"We need you at headquarters in Baltimore. You need to be there in person. Get your ass here as soon as possible."

Daria wondered why Lady Columbia wanted her in person. She was an under-aged, undertrained independent hero, and Lady Columbia usually left the superhero thing to someone else.

_Well, I guess I gotta go_, she thought ruefully. She walked out to the parking lot and zipped up her leather jacket. She then put on her helmet, got on her motorcycle and started towards PRT headquarters in Baltimore.

During the last decade or so thruways across the Northeast and other built-up parts of the country had sprouted limited-access single-lane toll roads. Ostensibly they were for well-heeled commuters who wanted to get from one place to another quickly without being caught in traffic jams like less-provident drivers on other lanes. In reality their main purpose was to allow police and other first responders to get from here to there more quickly. As a Parahuman with Hero status, Daria was allowed to use those highways and, since the roads were dry, she revved up her motorcycle and blew past less-important motorists on the other side of the divider.

Daria made very good time to Baltimore and to the PRT facility. She rode into the PRT garage and parked. She noted a suspiciously familiar red Jeep parked two spaces down.

She got out and went in, passing the first security barriers. There was a receptionist as well as a couple of PRT troopers toting heavy-duty weaponry and wearing thick body armor. She checked in, using her key card as well as the facility's biometric scanner.

She went into the locker room and changed into her uniform. Cynic was now on the job. She looked at her image in the mirror and smirked _My, my, Morgendorffer, you've sold out and become body-conscious_, she thought. She hadn't thought that regular workouts would change her body image. Her butt was a little too big but otherwise who cared?

She came out and there was a Protectorate staffer in civvies waiting for her. "They want you in the briefing room," he said.

She walked down the hallway and entered the conference room. Lady Columbia was out of the room. Stronghold, the leader of the Baltimore—Wilmington Parahuman Response Team, saw her and gave her what must have been a glower under his helmet. Daria glanced around the conference room and recognized several other Capes in the conference room: a mix of wards and grown-ups. Some she'd met, others she hadn't.

"Good afternoon, _Jefe_," said Cynic.

"Cynic!" barked Stronghold.

"Yes, _Jefe_," she said.

"What do you know about Highland, Texas?" said Stronghold.

"Too much," said Daria. "My parents moved there when I was three and I went to school there until a few months after my sixteenth birthday." _I also Triggered there a couple of weeks before my family moved away from there, but you don't need to know that._

"Could you still find your way around there?" asked Stronghold.

"Probably," Daria replied. "Of course I moved away before I learned how to drive. Why do you ask?"

She did not like the way this conversation was going She had a sinking feeling that some sort of Parahuman or natural disaster had hit Highland. She couldn't think of an Endbringer bothering with the place, even for practice.

"Are you aware of recent developments in Highland?" asked Stronghold.

"No, sir," Daria replied. "I left Highland in my mental rearview mirror when we moved away. I haven't thought about that shit hole since."

"Well, let's see if this can refresh your memory," said Stronghold. The main video screen activated, first showing a satellite image that Daria recognized as being Highland, Texas.

_Oh, crap_, thought Daria.

-(((O-O)))-

It was video, raw footage from somebody's personal video camera.

It started out with somebody giving a panting, frightened narration that they were in Highland, Texas and that their town was being devastated by monster mutants. The camera panned around to show fireballs flaming into the sky and people running away in fear for their lives.

_Piss-poor camera-work_, thought Daria.

The shouting and screaming grew louder as people screamed in terror or tried to run away.

_Brave man_, thought Daria, _but you really should have skedaddled a lot sooner_.

The camera panned away from the terrified narrator and the panic-stricken mob fleeing in terror to the menace they were fleeing.

"I AM CORNHOLIO!" shouted the giant Beavis. "YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE ALMIGHTY BUNGHOLE!"

Daria heard the crashing, crunching noises as Cornholio stomped his way through town, stomping on buildings and occasionally on cars and trucks. The video cut to an aerial view; someone must have used his R/C airplane to videotape the idiot making his way through town. The thought of a giant stomping through Highland was bad enough. The thought that it was a giant Beavis stomping through was even worse.

_Was he just by himself, or did he have company_, she asked herself.

Her question was answered in a second. We like Fye-Yur! Fye-Yur is COOL!" shouted another voice, sickeningly familiar. This one was normal size, but looked like Butthead, only slightly older than she remembered him. Butthead shot bursts of fire first in one direction, then in another, then at the unknown cameraman who dropped his video-camera and either died or fried.

The film ended with some Texas state official announcing that Highland had been declared a disaster area and had been cordoned off.

The lights came back on.

"Do you recognize those two?" asked Stronghold.

"Yeah, I recognize them," said Daria. "When the Hell did those two Trigger?" she asked.

-(((O-O)))—

Stronghold gave her no answer. Instead, he directed his attention to someone else in the conference room.

"VIXEN!" he said. "YOU'RE LATE!"

"Sorry!" said a high, squeaky voice.

_This keeps getting better and better_, thought Daria. She'd wondered who Tall Vixen might be. She turned around to see what Vixen looked like. Tall Vixen was tall, with blond hair, a high, squeaky voice, a large bust, pony tails. Her suspicions were dead-on. Daria recognized her immediately.

"Vixen, when the briefing starts, I want you _in here and sitting down_!" said Stronghold.

"OK, OK," said Tall Vixen.

"We were discussing the Highland situation with someone who'd been there," said Stronghold.

"Like she's from there or something?" said another Cape. Daria took a deep breath, then exhaled. _Remember, girl_, she told herself, _not having brains does not disqualify someone from becoming a Cape_.

"Yes," said Stronghold. "Team, this is Cynic. She grew up in Highland."

Daria was still uncomfortable being the center of public attention. She stood up and said "Hi!".

Vixen looked at her. Daria saw her mouth drop open.

"YOU!" she said.

"Me," said Daria.

-(((O-O)))—

"You two can do your introductions later," said Stronghold. "We've got business to take care of."

"OK, people," he said, addressing the entire room. "The Governor of Texas has asked the Protectorate to supply heroes who are familiar with Highland and familiar with the Paras we are facing. Since we have at least one Hero who is familiar with the area, we are going to be sending in some of our people."

Daria knew all too well who one of those people was going to be. _Oh, joy_, she thought.

Another hand went up.

"Excuse me, Sir," said another Cape. Daria noted that the voice was young and didn't have all that much self-confidence either. "Do they have any people who are familiar with the threat?"

"Good question, Fly-Girl," said Stronghold. "We have footage of someone who knew these two before they triggered and has dealt with them for years." He activated the video-screen and it projected a image of David van Driesen.

Daria's immediate reaction was to do a face-palm.


	2. Chapter 2

Daria: Back to Highland. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Daria was created by Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Worm was created by John C. "Wildbow" McCrae. I own neither franchise and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work of fiction. People wanting the real deal should watch the MTV Daria videos or seek out Wildbow's web serial.

"We have footage of someone who knew these two before they triggered and has dealt with them for years," said Stronghold. He activated the video-screen and it projected an image of David van Driesen.

Daria's immediate reaction was to do a face-palm.

Mr. Van Driesen's talk about the two idiots was just what she expected: that they were innately good boys, that they were misguided, that some gentle reprimand and re-direction would bring them back to the path of good thought and good behavior. Daria smacked her palm against her face again and shook her head.

_Bullshit,_ she thought. Van Driesen had once again given those two idiots too much leeway. What she'd just seen was what those two guys would have done if they hadn't been Triggered, only their scope of destruction would have been a hell of lot narrower. Before they were Triggered, the two idiots could break into somebody's house and trash somebody's train set, then stomp on an ant-bed, but now they were able to stomp on other people's houses and cars.

Something her Barksdale great-grandmother had told her the one time she'd met her began to bubble up while she was listening to Van Driesen's drivel. The old woman had been brought up as a genteel member of Virginia's wealthiest elite and had told her that she should strive to be a lady at all times. Daria had tried to ignore her and let her words flow around her, but her great-grandmother had said something profound that had stuck: there were times that a lady had to stand on a table and holler.

_I guess this is it_, she said to herself, then stood up.

"Excuse me, this is bullshit," she said.

"Cynic, stop interrupting," said Stronghold.

"Unh-unh," said Daria. "This is bullshit," she said pointing at the screen. "I've known those two idiots for about as long as Van Driesen and his stuff about those two is touchy-feely bullshit."

"Cynic!" said Stronghold, his voice rising.

"I knew those two from Middle School partway through my sophomore year," said Daria, ratcheting up her volume. She was not going to give an inch. "They're stupid, incurious, destructive, and until they Triggered, they were kept in line either because it was too much bother to go off-track or because someone would kick their asses if they did."

Brittany, _no, Vixen_, whooped and said "You go, Girl!"

"So who do you recommend we talk to?" said another voice. Daria had no idea as to who he was except that he wore a white shirt, dark suit, and wore dark sunglasses. _Some Protectorate big fish_, she guessed.

Whoever-it-was must have had enough clout to override Stronghold, because he did nothing but glare first at Daria, then at the suit.

"You want to get some honest intel about those guys, ask for Principal McVicker or Coach Bradley Buzzcutt," said Daria.

"McVicker is deceased," said the suit. "Heart attack. Buzzcutt is in prison."

"What for?" asked Daria.

"Assault with intent to kill," said the suit. "One of his students."

"Assault who?" said Daria.

The suit froze, then looked at his laptop. "Beavis Underland," he said.

"The guy we saw on the screen, right?" Daria said just before Stronghold could interject.

"Yes," said the suit.

"Get him and bring him in," said Daria. "Buzzcutt is wise to those two."

"He's in prison," said the suit.

"Get him anyway," said Daria. The town's under siege. That ought to be enough reason to get him out of the slammer unless Governor What's-his-name is a total dumb-ass."

"Anyone else?" said the suit.

"I don't know," said Daria. "The only other one I'd recommend is Mr. Herrera, the Spanish teacher. You could ask Todd Ianozzi, but as far as I'm concerned, he's a waste of time."

"We know about him," said the suit. "Why don't you like him?"

"He's not just a crook but a liar," Daria replied. "He'd probably say just about anything to avoid jail time."

She stood there thinking.

"Oh, yeah, one other thing," she added. "Don't bother with Stewart Stevenson, he hasn't got an Effing clue."

-(((O-O)))—

"All right," said Stronghold, "I'm putting together a team to help the Texans."

"Slick," said Lady Columbia. The young, lean Afro-American stood up and smiled.

"Stay seated until this briefing is over," Lady Columbia said irritable.

"Fly-Girl," said Lady Columbia. A lithe, café-au-lait girl with dark, curly hair smiled.

"Hydro," said Lady Columbia. A stocky girl in a two-tone one-piece suit grunted. Daria wondered what her powers were.

_I wonder if I'm going_, thought Daria. _Since I shot off my mouth and embarrassed Stronghold, I wouldn't be a damn bit surprised if they keep me here as punishment for insubordination._

"Cynic, you're going," said Lady Columbia.

Daria's attention was so fixed on Lady Columbia, Stronghold, and the suit that she missed Brittany's expression.

"Yes, Tall Vixen, you can go, too," said Lady Columbia.

"Whee!" said Vixen.

-(((O-O)))—

She e-mailed her family to let them know what was going on. The Protectorate had ways of sending e-mails so as to disguise the sender's ID.

"_Hi, Mom, Hi, Dad," she wrote. "I got called up by the PRT. The Powers that Be found out that I'm expert on Highland and the two idiots and they're sending me there._

_I plan to come back after it's over and done. I've had enough Highland to last me a lifetime._

_My love to Quinn._

_Love you,_

_Daria"_

-(((O-O)))—

Stronghold led the team to an assembly area near the roof of the Baltimore PRT facility. They were to wait there for the helicopters that would take them to Dover Air Force Base, which would provide transport to Texas.

"Kittens in a tree," said Slick.

"Hunh?" said Daria.

"This is going to be as easy as getting kittens out of a tree," said Slick.

_I hope so_, thought Daria. She stood there with the other heroes and PRT troopers and started to have doubts. _Why me_, she wondered. _why do they need an out-of-state response team? Couldn't they have gotten someone from the Protectorate's Permian Basin unit or from Dallas—Fort Worth or Houston?_

She knew part of the answer: she probably knew the two idiots better than anyone outside of the Highland cops or Highland High's principal's office. She wondered if they were going to put her on the front line or if they were going to keep her back at some field HQ to give advice. She briefly wondered if someone would try to make her coffee girl, then remembered that they had State Troopers or PRT personnel to tap for that job.

The helicopters came and Daria made a crouching run for the door. She found a space on a bench, tried to buckle herself in, but was buckled in by her seatmates. "We've got it, Cherry-girl," said Slick. The helicopter lifted her and the other Baltimore—Wilmington area heroes off the building and into the evening sky. At Dover Air Force Base, a C-130 was waiting on the runway. They bundled her aboard so fast that they barely had time to sit down and buckle up before the plane took off for Texas.

Daria had never ridden on a military airplane before. She quickly found out that it was very different from flying on a civilian airliner. A thirty-something woman, enlisted, said that she was the Loadmaster and directed them to their seats. The seats weren't a bit like the airliners she'd ridden before: she was seated backwards in webbing with a chest harness.

Daria got another lesson about military aviation. On her handful of trips by airliner, the passengers sat in the passenger compartment while the cargo was in the cargo hold. It was not inside the cabin with you and you didn't have to stare at it or the webbing that held it in place.

The cargo was lashed down, the Loadmaster nodded and said something into her headset. The enlisted personnel who'd helped with the loading exited the plane, the ramp came up, and the C-130's propellers began to turn.

"THIS IS SO EXCITING!" exclaimed Vixen.


	3. Chapter 3

Daria: Back To Highland. A Daria Worm Crossover. Chapter Three

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge and is the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John C. "Wildbow" McCrae. I own none of the above franchises and neither expect nor deserve any financial compensation for this work of fiction.

Support the original artists! Buy/Watch Beavis and Butthead and Daria. Read and support Wildbow's Worm. 

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* 

The C-130 reached the end of the runway, revved up, and then took off, banking as it presumably turned towards the direction of Texas. The military transport's interior was noisy, much noisier than the airliners Daria had flown in.

_And so the cavalry rides to the rescue_, Daria thought sardonically. She hoped that things would sort themselves out by the time they got there and that the plane would turn around in mid-journey and then fly back to Delaware.

Daria wondered if she and the two idiots were the only two parahumans in Highland. Were there any more? Until she Triggered, she didn't think that Highland had _any_ Parahumans.

She wondered how long they'd be in the air. She suspected that this was going to be a long flight. Daria didn't know the top air speed of a C-130, but she guessed that they'd be up in the air for a while. How long? She didn't know. At least three hours. Probably four.

"Hey," said Brittany, _no, Tall Vixen_, she told herself.

"So what are your powers?" asked Brittany. "I never got a chance to ask." Daria thought that was a nosy question then realized that it wasn't. That was info Tall Vixen and the others might need to know. _Should know_, she corrected herself. She still didn't consider herself to be a team player and hadn't since she'd been kicked off the kickball team back in second grade.

"Brute, Mover, some Blaster ability," Daria responded. "I've got super strength, super-speed, although I don't know how much damage I can take. I can also bore holes in things if I stare at them long enough. The first two are probably good in a fight; I don't know how useful the latter would be if I got it on with a bad guy."

"I knew about your stare," said Vixen. "I never knew you could bore holes in things."

"I didn't know I could either until I did it," said Daria. "Luckily nobody got hurt. Now I have to time myself when I look at things."

"Excited about going home?"

"Not really," Daria replied. "Highland's not home. I hated the place. I never told anyone except what's-her-name that I was glad to get out."

"Oh, uh," said Brittany. Daria put her finger to her lips. Brittany caught the cue.

"Like where is she? I thought you guys would be in this together."

"The Protectorate sent her south someplace," said Daria, hoping her answer was vague enough. Well, Bolivia _was_ pretty far south. Somehow Daria could tell that Brittany had just pouted.

Jane might have been ideal for this operation. As Perspective, she had ways of manipulating space and physical objects and bringing down a giant Beavis would have been easy.

Slick was sitting in the seat next to Daria.

"Hey, Cherry Girl," he said, "I got some questions." He was about to ask them when he got interrupted by Stronghold.

"Cynic, come with me," he said.

"Sorry," Daria said to Slick. "Bigger fish get to bite the worm first."

Daria unbuckled her harness and followed Stronghold to the front of the plane.

There were several presumably high-ranking Protectorate and law enforcement people seated up front. Unlike Daria, they had airliner-type seats and theirs faced forward. Their seats faced forward, not only facing a bulkhead with a flat screen but several webbed seats facing the rear of the plane.

"I brought Cynic," said Stronghold. He motioned for Daria to take a seat facing the panjundrums. She said down and buckled herself in.

"You had a lot to say about those two Parahumans in Highland," said the Suit.

_I'm going to have to give him a cape name whether he deserves it or not_, thought Daria, trying to keep her lips from showing a smirk.

"How is it that you know so much about them?" asked the Suit from Baltimore's PRT headquarters.

"Excuse me," said Daria. "Before I answer, what is the make of that suit you're wearing?"

"Brooks Brothers," said the Suit. "Why do you want to know?"

_Gotcha_, thought Daria. "I like the cut," she lied.

"To answer your question, I went to the same schools as those guys for the better part of four years," said Daria. "Highland High doesn't have an honors track, so the brains and the dummies all took the same classes, so I often went to the same classes as they did. Sometimes the teachers would pair us together for school assignments."

"We didn't quite live in the same neighborhood but they lived close enough so that I could walk over to their house. I usually had to go over to their place and bully the hell out them to get them to do their share of school projects, and even then I had to do most of the work."

"Why?" said another suit. This one wore a gray suit. Daria didn't recognize him. She was pretty sure that he didn't work for the Protectorate.

_Great_, Daria thought to herself. _Captain Clueless is on the job_

"Because I wanted to pass my classes and get good grades," Daria growled at him.

Captain Clueless was either following some weird interrogation strategy or he was living up to the nickname that Daria had just given him.

"So you spent a lot of time with them," said Suit Number Two. "do you consider yourself to be friends with them?"

Daria's jaw dropped. "Say what?" she said incredulously.

"You spent a lot of time with them, more than most people did," said Captain Clueless.

Daria was flabbergasted by the Captain's comment.

"I did spend some time with them, yes," she said. "I found them amusing."

"More than most," said Captain Clueless.

"Dude, have you ever been to Highland?" asked Daria.

"No, Miss, I haven't," replied the Captain in a tone of voice that said that Daria should be grateful that he'd given her that much information.

"There are, or there were people there who kept pet snakes and lizards," said Daria. "They kept them as pets. They spent a lot of time looking at them, feeding them, and taking care of them as best they knew how. They weren't friends. They didn't spill their hearts out to them, they didn't invite them out to movies, and they didn't consider them to be their best friends forever."

A Protectorate aide sitting on the other side of Brooks Brother made an unprofessional grin.

"I didn't have any real friends back at Highland High," said Daria. "I spend some time with the two idiots because I found them amusing."

"You weren't true to your school, Cynic?" said Stronghold.

"No," Daria replied. "My school wasn't true to me." _Particularly after some girl gang-bangers beat me up and tossed me in my locker along with some snakes and left me there_, she thought bitterly. _When I finally kicked out the locker door, Principal Durrance billed Mom and Dad for it and tried to file charges for damaging school property._

Stronghold's eyebrows raised. He had seen Morgendorffer's files but not the details as to what event caused her to gain her powers. _I bet that's where you Triggered_, he thought. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Brooks Brother came to the rescue. "Let's talk about those two guys," he said.

"They're both dumb," said Daria. "Neither one of them is very smart." _There, that ought to get that idea through the bureaucrats' thick skulls_, she thought.

"Neither one is a deep thinker and neither one of them does much in the way of long-term thinking. They've also got very little impulse control. They're very now-oriented. If they get the idea of doing something, they'll just go out and do it without thinking of the consequences."

"Their idea of entertainment is Metal, watching television, action movies, horror or porno if they can get it. They also like destroying things."

"Any hobbies?" asked Stronghold.

"Nope," said Daria. "I think Butthead's Dad or one of his Mom's boyfriends might have done some fishing but I never saw either of the guys doing any."

"How are they with computers?" asked Stronghold.

"I heard that they got Stewart Stevenson to help them access porno on the school's computers, but I never saw either one of them try to go on-line themselves."

"Firearms?" asked Stronghold.

"I heard they might have held a piece for Todd Ianozzi, but I don't think that either one of them owns a gun," said Daria. "On the other hand, there might be guns on the premises. I'd ask the cops; I haven't lived in Highland for over a year."

"Just how dumb are they?" asked Stronghold.

"Poor socialization skills, poor problem-solvers, semi-literate at best, poor math skills," Daria replied. "I'd say that Butthead is smarter than Beavis, but that isn't saying much."

"OK, how would you go about finding them?" asked Brooks Brother.

To her surprise, Daria realized that she had an answer.

"Small-town police work," she replied. "Finding them isn't like going up against some terror group or some big-city criminal gang with a couple of Thinkers behind it. I doubt they've gone beyond their usual hang-outs. I'd canvass where they usually hang out and only bring out the big guns when you're ready to confront or capture them."

"I suspect that they're holed up somewhere either at their house or somebody else's. This sounds nuts, but if I wanted to find them, I'd call every house in the neighborhood and tell them that I'm offering free pizza and beer. If the two idiots respond, deliver the pizza and beer, then back off. You'll know where they are and you'd be able to form a perimeter."

"Don't you think they'd get suspicious?" asked Captain Clueless.

"Possibly," said Daria, "At least if the guys deliver the pizza and beer in a PRT or FBI van while toting heavy weapons and wearing body armor underneath. Have someone driving a mini-van and dressed in civvies and I doubt they'd suspect a thing. They're that dumb."

Captain Clueless frowned. "Cynic, are you a professional law-enforcement agent?"

"No," said Daria.

"Do you have any training in apprehending Parahuman suspects?" said the Captain.

"But I know these guys, I know how they act, and my solution is a lot less messy than a Mount Carmel siege and shoot-out," said Daria.

"We'll take your suggestion under advisement, Miss," Captain Clueless said condescendingly. "You can go back to your seat now."

Daria looked at Stronghold and Brooks Brother. She couldn't read either man's expressions.

"Let's go," said Stronghold. She thought she saw him make a shrug, but she told herself that she was probably imagining it. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Stronghold took Daria back to her seat. She was in a foul mood.

Slick had not been idle. He'd been chatting up Brittany and the two had found a common passion: high school football.

"Hey, you're back," said Slick. "So what does the boss-man say?"

"Thank you very much for sharing, Missy, but we'll take it from here. That's what he said," growled Daria.

"I still think it's going to be as easy as getting kittens down from tall trees," said Slick.

"I _love_ kitties," squealed Brittany.

Daria sat down and started staring at the floor. She quickly realized what could happen, then stopped. _I'm going to have to learn a new behavior,_ she thought. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Vixen's and Slick's conversation shifted over to the military. Daria learned that Brittany's father had been in the reserves during the Vietnam era, came home, and became a successful investor. Slick came from a family that had trooped to colors for more than three generations. Daria was impressed.

Brittany had to get up and go to the bathroom, leaving Slick and Daria alone to talk with each other. Daria's curiosity got the better of her. "Just out of curiosity, were any of your relatives officers?" she asked.

"Not until my Dad's generation," said Slick. "The only exception was Confederate General William Barksdale."

Daria knew all about William Barksdale, CSA. Her forebear. She knew quite a bit about the Confederacy and suspected that she might have had Afro-American relatives.

_Holy shit_, she told herself. To her surprise, she found herself laughing.

"What's so funny, Cherry Girl?" said Slick, his tone of voice changing from the jovial to something more serious. _Stop laughing_, Daria told herself. _Get a grip. This_ isn't _funny_.

If she lacked control of her voice, she still had control of her hand. She pointed at Slick, then at herself, then pointed at some imaginary point where General Barksdale should be standing, then pointed again at Slick, pointed at the Barksdale point, pointed at herself, then pointed at the Barksdale point.

Slicks eyes widened as he began to decipher what Daria had been signing at him.

"I apologize," said Daria, blushing. She was able to stop laughing. "I'm sorry. I'm descended from him too."

He studied her with a frown. "I knew you guys were around," said Slick.

"I suspected that you guys were around, but ladies weren't supposed to ask," said Daria, her blush coming back. She stopped herself before she said "And I didn't want to find out."

"How do you do," she added, giving him a lady-like bow, or as much of a bow as she could make in the webbing..

"About this operation," she said, trying to change the subject. "Let's try not to imitate our esteemed ancestor and avoid getting blown away."

"I thought he survived the war and went to Congress or something," said Slick.

"Nope, he got it at Gettysburg on July 2nd, 1863," said Daria. "I looked it up."

Brittany returned from the toilet a couple of minutes later.

"So what did you guys talk about?" she said. 

-(((O-O)))-


	4. Chapter 4

Daria Wormstory Back To Highland Four

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language. We are talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead, you know. 

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland 

Daria must have dozed off at some point, because someone was shaking her shoulder.

"Wake up, Dar, I mean Cynic," said Brittany. "we're landing."

Brittany was right. The C-130 cargo plane was clearly descending. Daria could sense the downward motion and felt her ear pressure building up. She worked her jaw and her ears popped. She wondered where they'd come down. Dyess, maybe? That was the nearest Air Force base she could think of. Well, the C-130 was short on windows, so she'd have to wait until they opened the rear hatch or until somebody told her until she found out.

She felt the transport's wheels hit the runway. The transport rolled down the runway, braking to what Daria supposed was a comfortable taxiing speed, a much shorter one than civilian airliners would use. The transport taxied a ways and then stopped. The engines powered down and Daria guessed that they had Arrived. She wondered if they would sit on the tarmac or if the Powers-That-Be would start offloading the aircraft. She checked her watch: it was about 3:45 AM, Eastern Daylight Savings Time.

The rear ramp opened and lowered. The PA system came on. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the Loadmaster. You are to remain seated until instructed to exit the aircraft." Dara remained seated, although she did unbuckle her harness.

The ramp came down and Daria was able to see outside. Not that there was that much to see from this angle. Besides, it was still dark, despite floodlights here and there and other lights marking out this airport's taxiways.

"My team, let's go!" said Stronghold.

Daria, Slick, and Brittany stood up, as did Fly Girl and Hydro, and followed Stronghold off the aircraft.

She finally got a peak at their surroundings when they exited the C-130. Despite the fact that it was dark, Daria recognized the air terminal off in the distance: they were at Midland International, not at Dyess Air Force Base like she thought they'd be.

She wondered how they'd get to Highland. She saw her answer: several helicopters were sitting on the tarmac nearby. The view looked like it would be better than that of the C-130. As it turned out, it might have been for a couple of her team-mates but Daria got a middle seat and her view would be crappy. _Figures_, she thought.

Their helicopter's rotors started turning almost as soon as she and her team mates were buckled in. The motors revved up and the chopper lifted off, then turned. Her sense of direction was poor but she presumed that the helicopters were flying east towards Highland.

"Back to your old stomping ground, hey, girl!" shouted Slick.

"Yeah," Daria shouted back, her lack of enthusiasm showing.

The trip to Highland or wherever they were going was quick; certainly quicker than by car. They put down about twenty minutes later. Their helicopter set down in an open lot not far from the interstate. Daria hopped out after Slick and ran in the direction she was supposed to. They were again loaded into a couple of trucks and driven away.

The trucks came to a stop a half a mile or so later. Daria got out and recognized where she was, near the municipal auditorium on Pacific Avenue. She followed Stronghold inside and saw a lot of law enforcement and military types talking on cell phones and radios, looking at lap-tops, or plotting movements on a big map attached to a dry board with thick magnets.

_This must be the command post_, thought Daria.

The command post was overrun with law enforcement officials in and out of uniform. There was also another group of Capes there too. They looked tired and cranky, but not so tired and cranky that they weren't able to send some dirty looks in their direction. Daria didn't recognize any of them. And for good reason: by the time she'd recovered enough from the Triggering experience, her Dad had bundled her onto an airplane and flew her to Maryland and their new home in Lawndale.

She was surprised to see who else was waiting for them: the Governor.

"So glad to see you here," said the Governor. His brown hair was sprinkled with silver. Daria was not impressed. She'd been too young to be interested in politics, but she'd been more impressed with his dad. Besides, there was something about the governor that signed smart-aleck and she didn't like it.

"We're here, Sir," said Stronghold.

"We appreciate the help," said the Governor. Daria thought it sounded a little pro-forma. "I'm told that one of your group is actually familiar with Highland?"

"I am," said Daria. "I grew up here."

"Well isn't that wonderful!" said the Governor. "We're glad to have you back!"

_I'm not glad to be back_, Daria thought, but held her tongue.

"And you know your way around, too," he added.

_Shit_, thought Daria. _I hope_ somebody _besides me and any surviving Highland cops knows their way around town._ She wondered if her mask hid her look of alarm. There were times she wished she was the the praying type; if she was she'd be busy praying that this operation didn't turn into a massive screw-up.

"Thank you, Governor," said Stronghold.

Stronghold looked distracted for a moment. Daria noted that Stronghold had a headphone and mike attached to his helmet. "OK, team, let's get briefed! Follow me!" He spotted another Cape, they exchanged hand signals, then the other Capes started walking towards a side door. Daria fell in with the other Marylanders. Stronghold led them to a conference room to the side of the main auditorium. She found a seat between Hydro and Slick.

The other group was seated before they were. "You the carpet-baggers?" asked one of the other Capes, a male dressed in in blue and white with a stylized funnel cloud stitched onto the chest of his costume.

_Another Texan by the accent_, thought Daria.

"We're from Maryland," said Stronghold. The Texan glared at him. Stronghold glared back, as did Slick.

_Oh, the glorious waves of testosterone in the morning_, thought Daria.

"I bet you all don't know your asses from your elbow," said the funnel-cloud guy. "Why the hell are you here?"

Daria lost her patience. "So where are you from?" she asked.

"I'm from Texas," the other Cape replied.

"Texas is a big place," said Daria. "_Where_ in Texas?"

"Weatherford," replied the Texan.

"That's over 200 miles away," said Daria. "You have any friends or family here?"

"That's not the point!" said the Texan.

"That is the point," said Daria. "I grew up here. I lived here until just over a year ago. I know my way around here-you don't, Mr. Weatherford."

Fly-girl smiled at the red-headed girl's response. _Oooh_, she thought. _Girl, you've got a sharp tongue_.

Cyclone-Boy took a deep to say something, but his boss shook his head. "Whirlwind, settle down. The girl has a point."

"Can I ask a question?" said Daria. Cyclone Boy's team leader gave her a nod. "Go ahead," he said.

"How many of you all grew up around here?" said Daria.

The Texas team leader looked at his people and gave them a nod as if to say "go ahead and answer her question."

Several hands went up.

_My bad_, thought Daria. _I should have been more specific_. "How many of you all grew up in Highland or Howard County?" she asked. "Let's see some hands." The hands went down. except for a girl with a stylized moving dusty storm on her uniform's chest. She half-raised her hand, looked thoughtful, then lowered it.

"How many of you all are familiar enough with Highland to get around before this thing blew up?" _Keep going, Morgendorffer_, she told herself. "How many of you all can find your way around town?"

The hands stayed down except for the girl with the stylized cloud's. Hers went up.

"So you know your way around here," said Daria.

"Dusty," said the girl with the dusty storm on her uniform. "I have family here."

"Cynic," said Daria, pointing her thumb at her chest. "I used to live here."

"Pardon me, but I didn't catch your name," Daria said to the Texas team leader.

"Rounder," he said.

"Have those two idiots been found or are we still playing hide-and-go-seek?" asked Daria.

"Why do you call them idiots?" asked the Texas team leader.

"I went to school with them for several years before my family moved away," Daria replied. "Smart isn't something they do. Ask their other schoolmates if you want confirmation."

"We haven't found them," the Texas team leader replied. "We think they're holed up somewhere for the night."

"I think we ought to introduce ourselves," said Stronghold. "Let's start making introductions."

"I'm Stronghold. I'm a Brute and a Tinker."

"I'm Rounder," said the leader of the Texas team. "I'm also a Brute and a Blaster."

"I'm Slick," said Slick. "I'm a Mover and I can also manipulate matter. I'm good at creating slicks."

"I'm Dusty," said one of the Texas girls. "I'm a Shaker. I can make dust storms."

"I'm Tall Vixen," said Brittany. "I'm a Mover and a Striker."

_Kevvy ought to watch his ass better when he strays_, thought Daria.

"I'm Hydro," said the stocky girl Daria had only met the day before. I manipulate water."

The team members introduced themselves and listed their powers. Daria thought they were suspiciously short-handed; was there another crisis somewhere? Probably, she decided: Endbringers had a higher priority than Beavis and Butthead.

At the end of the introductions, Rounder held up his hand. He was listening to someone on his headphone. The Texans fell quiet. "Guys, chill," said Stronghold, and the Marylanders also settled down.

"That was the Governor," said Rounder. "He said that the perimeter's too big and we couldn't keep those guys from slipping through. We need to shrink it."

_And free up traffic on Interstate 20 and US 87_, Daria thought sardonically. She raised her hand.

"Yes, Cynic," said Rounder.

"I assume that the cops and the military are clearing the escarpment east and south of town?" said Daria. "That should help some, although you want to keep enough firepower to keep the boys away from the oil refinery over there."

Rounder motioned her to continue.

"And I suppose that Cornholio has reverted to his normal size?" she added.

"We haven't seen any trace of him," said Rounder.

"Well, a fifty-foot—_**Cornholio**_ is hard to miss," said Daria. Several people chuckled at her remark.

"The Governor has ordered a house-to-house search," said Rounder. "Police and National Guard units will be conducting the search."

Daria remembered the footage she'd seen in Baltimore and felt a shudder go down her spine. That was going to be rough on somebody, and not just the two idiots, especially with Beavis playing Stomp and Butthead throwing fireballs.

She thought about how she'd try to evade such a cordon if the cops and the National Guard were after her. She'd probably try to avoid the roads and hike out cross-country. Did the two idiots have the brains to think of that or would they stick to the easier, softer ways of getting around_? Probably not, but something to think about later_, she told herself.

"Any more questions?" said Rounder.

"Were they still living in the same place they were living at two years ago?" she asked. "Has anyone gone in there to look for clues?"

"That neighborhood has been cordoned off," said Rounder. "Too dangerous."

_Crap_, thought Daria.

"Also, could you get a Highland cop or Howard County sheriff over here?" she said.

Rounder spoke into his head-mike, putting his hand up to ask for silence. The conversation lasted longer than Daria thought it would, but ended with an "OK, we'll take him." He sounded resigned.

"Local law enforcement is engaged in the search or the evacuations," said Rounder. "The task force leader is sending someone over to discuss the two Paras with us. They'll be here shortly."

"Any other ideas, Cynic?" said Stronghold.

"Well, I've seen the video and I suppose we've all seen the photos and heard descriptions," said Daria. She _hoped_ that the Texans had seen the photos. I can describe how they dress and talk like."

"Go ahead, Cynic," said Rounder, and Daria briefed them on the boys' fondness for tees and shorts, and started imitating Beavis and Butthead talking. She was imitating Beavis' comments about Principal McVicker when she interrupted by Dusty: "Oh my God, I remember the brown-haired one hitting on me when my Dad took me shopping at Kicker Boots! Gross!"

Daria resumed, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. A couple of state troopers walking in escorting a shackled prisoner in a Texas Department of Corrections prison uniform.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Bradley Buzzcutt," said one of the troopers.

.


	5. Chapter 5

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria / Worm Crossover. Chapter Five

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Beavis and Butthead is the creation of Mike Judge and is also the property of MTV Viacom. Worm is the creation and is the property of John "Wildbow" McCrae. Daria: Back to Highland was written with no intention whatsoever to be commercialized.

Daria: Back to Highland*Daria: Back to Highland-Daria: Back to Highland

Daria resumed, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. A couple of state troopers walking in escorting a shackled prisoner in a Texas Department of Corrections prison uniform.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Bradley Buzzcutt," said one of the troopers.

Daria turned her head to see if the prisoner was in fact Bradley Buzzcutt, her former gym teacher from her Highland High days. It was.

Coach Buzzcutt looked—diminished. Prison had taken a lot out of him. The old Coach Buzzcutt was a fearless, alpha-male gung-ho he-man who'd kept relatively tight control of her schoolmates in the gym and on the playing fields, if not in the locker rooms or the classrooms when he substituted for a regular teacher. This Buzzcutt looked shrunken, a macho man who'd had most of his self-confidence knocked out of him.

He hadn't lost all of his skills from teaching and the Marine Corps, though. Coach Buzzcutt could still read and recognize body language, though. He recognized that which suits were in charge of the situation.

"Please be seated, Mr. Buzzcutt," said Brooks Brother.

Coach Buzzcutt took a seat and glared around the room. "What the Eff do you guys want?" he asked warily.

"We'd like to ask you some questions about Beavis and Butthead," said Rounder.

"Like what?" said Coach Buzzcutt. "You all take me out of my cell, bring me up here, but don't tell me Jack about what's going on.

Daria decided to intervene. "Relax, Coach, you have friends here," she said.

Captain Clueless glared at her and motioned for her to be quiet.

"Do I know you?" Coach Buzzcutt asked angrily.

"You might," said Daria. "You taught me how to swim."

That settled down Coach Buzzcutt—a little.

"We understand that you are acquainted with Beavis Underland and Butler Headly," said Captain Clueless.

"I knew both of those losers," said Coach Buzzcutt, his face reddening and his fist clenching.

"What was your relationship with these two individuals?" said Captain Clueless.

"They were students at my school," replied Coach Buzzcutt. "I had them in gym class and other classes. They were the sorriest, laziest, stupidest excuses for—_students_ at Highland High School I had ever seen in my life."

"What was your opinion of them?" said Captain Clueless. Daria wondered why he asked the question. Coach Buzzcutt had already made his opinion loud and clear.

_Time was wasting_, she thought with mounting dread. The boys were still out in town, they'd probably wake up soon if they hadn't already, and they'd as likely as not resume playing B-movie Godzilla on the inhabitants of Highland.

She decided that it was time to intervene again. "Shouldn't you consider telling him that the two idiots Triggered?" she said.

"Sit down, Miss Morgendorffer," said Captain Clueless, earning him death-glares from every Cape in the room and several PRT operatives as well. Outing a Cape had recently become a federal crime, and neither Coach Buzzcutt nor the various law enforcement personnel within earshot were cleared to learn Daria's civilian identity.

Despite his illegal faux pas, Captain Clueless retained control of the interrogation.

Coach Buzzcutt's interrogation corroborated most of the information that Daria had given the Protectorate and the Feds back in Baltimore and on the plane to Midland, although Coach Buzzcutt's responses were far more graphic and expletive-ridden. He also recounted several incidents that had happened at Highland High that Daria had either witnessed herself or had only heard about.

After The Adults In The Room had finished questioning Coach Buzzcutt, one of them nodded at Rounder and told him that if any of his team had any more questions, they were now free to ask them. Despite the fact that she was part of Stronghold's team and not Rounder's, Daria jumped at the opportunity.

"I have a question," she said. "Coach, do you know anything about Beavis' and Butthead's outdoor skills?"

"Outdoor skills?" Coach Buzzcutt said incredulously. "Are you asking me if those two idiots have any outdoor skills?"

"It's a question that has to be asked, no matter how stupid," said Daria. In spite of all the things that had since happened to her and Coach Buzzcutt, a part of her that quailed at standing up to Bradley Buzzcutt.

Coach Buzzcutt started to laugh hysterically. "Those idiots don't have Jack in the way if outdoor skills! Zip! None!" he said.

"Do you twerps want to know what happened when McVicker sent them off to a Wilderness Camp to try to set them straight? They tried to set up an Effing tent and FAILED! The idiot counselor with them tried to get them to cook a meal over an open fire and they went and set off an EFFING FOREST FIRE!"

Daria gave a brief bark of amusement. Then she made a connection: that must have been the Hummingbird Canyon Forest Fire. That one had saddened her. Even though she'd hated Highland, she'd hoped to visit the Anahuac Mountains and the Canyon. The fire had started in mid-May, well after she'd moved to Lawndale.

"So why did you want to know, Cynic?" said Rounder.

"I wanted to guess if Beavis and Butthead would try to break out of the perimeter by trying to go cross-country," she replied. "From what Coach Buzzcutt just told us, it sounds like they'd probably try to get out by some road or pathway instead."

There was a loud "boom" as if someone had fired a canon. Every cape in the room rose on mental alert, waiting for information.

Brooks Brother's cell phone started ringing. He picked it up and started talking into it. It was a relatively short conversation, ending with an "I see," "I'll tell them," and a "Thanks."

"That was the Governor's liaison," he said. "One of the rogue Parahumans is down: the one calling himself Cornholio." 

Three weeks later  
The Offices of Dawn Clearly, psychotherapist  
PRT Headquarters,  
Baltimore, Maryland 

"I didn't find out until later how Beavis died," said Daria. "It was horrible and gross and funny at the same time. I think that he and Butthead would have loved it, at least if the victim was somebody else."

"Could you tell me how he died?" said the therapist.

"Beavis shifted from normal to his fifty-foot Cornholio persona. A gunner in a tank that the Governor brought in drew a bead on him when he was fifty feet tall," said Daria. "I have to give the bastard credit, he was a damn good shot: an armor-piercing round fired from the tank's canon. It severed his aorta and spine. If it didn't kill him instantly, he died pretty quick. And that was Farewell for Cornholio."

"How did you react?" said the therapist.

"I was shocked," said Daria, "but I didn't have much time to process my feelings. While it was all over for Beavis, it wasn't all over for that artillery round."

"What happened then?" said the psychotherapist

"The round kept on flying until it hit a repo car lot several blocks away. It set off a fire when it hit the gas one of the cars," said Daria.

"You sound like it was important," said the psychotherapist.

"It was," said Daria. "That was just one car in a row of cars that had been seized by repo men and it looked to spread to the other cars in the lot."

"That was bad enough," said Daria, "but there was a friggin' propane distributorship about half a block a way. Downtown Highland would have gone up like Valhalla at the end of Siegfried's funeral." 

-(((O-O)))- 

Highland, Texas

Brooks Brother got another call moments later.

"Can I have your attention, please," he said. "That was the task force leader. There's a fire going on at a car lot about half a block away from a propane distributorship. They'd like Dusty to help put it out ASAP."

_They have a vehicle out front to take her there, I hope_, thought Daria.

Her hope was dashed in the next second. "They say they'll be sending a vehicle to pick her up."

_That tears it_, thought Daria, _this is now officially a FUBAR situation_.

"I can get her there as fast or faster," said Daria. "Give me the street address and the nearest intersection and I can get her there about as fast as a cop car."

"How?" asked Rounder.

"Piggyback ride," Daria replied. _I am never going to live this down_, she thought.

"Piggyback?" said Rounder incredulously.

"Piggyback," Daria replied. "I can get up to sixty five miles an hour by myself and at least fifty with someone riding on my shoulders."

"So how's the ride?" asked Dusty.

"You ever ride bareback?" said Daria.

"Of course," said Dusty. "The next thing you'll be asking is if I can ride a horse."

"What I'm saying is that the ride might be a little rough," said Daria.

"Whatever," said Dusty.

"There's a planter over to the side of the auditorium steps," said Daria. "You can slide onto my back over there."

"Not necessary," said Rounder. "I can set her on your shoulders here."

"Fine with me," said Daria, turning her head to Brooks Brother. "Tell the cops to clear a path for Dusty and me and we'll get going."

Rounder lifted Dusty up and set her on Daria's shoulders. Daria shifted a little, trying to find her new center of balance with Dusty on her shoulders.

"You OK up there?" she asked.

"I'm OK," said Dusty.

"What's the friggin' address?" said Daria.

"800 Jonsford," said Brooks Brother. "They say it's just south of where Jonsford crosses East Second."

"I can find it," said Daria.

"Vamonos," said Daria. She turned towards the auditorium's main doors. The doors were opened by PRT and Texas Department of Public Safety personnel. Daria spotted the access ramp and decided that she'd much rather use those than the steps. She got to the street level, looked for a gap between the barricades and law enforcement personnel and began to pick up her pace. 

-(((O-O)))- 

Dusty told her later that riding Daria-back was something somewhere between a horse trot and a canter. On Daria's part, she felt that carrying Dusty was awkward and she worried that Dusty might lose her grip or fall off.

In spite of that, she ran the five blocks to US 87, slowing down to about 15 miles an hour to clear the intersection, then sped back up, running three blocks more to where a Texas State Highway Patrol patrol car was waiting, the doors open and the car pointed in the right direction. The trooper motioned for Daria to slow down and the girls to get into the police car. Daria slowed down to a stop and Dusty slid off with a sigh of relief.

"No offense, Cynic," she said, "but the cop car's more comfortable."

_Whatever_, thought Daria. She felt offended, even though Dusty was right.

Both girls got in and the police car drove the few blocks to the car fire.

Daria made good use of her time in the car. _Think of a strategy and look for supplies_, she told herself.

"So, Dusty," she said. "You plannin' to use your power to put out the fire?"

"Duh," she said. "Yeah."

"Thought so," said Daria. "I'm looking for piles of dirt and sand."

She found one: somebody was doing some excavating on the 700 block of East Second. She marked it as a backup in case she didn't spot anything better.

The car came to a stop two blocks later when another DPS trooper put up his hand. Daria could see a blazing inferno behind him.

Time to go to work. She didn't know what she could do but she'd help Dusty if she could. Both girls opened their car doors and got out. Daria started looking around. That sand pile two blocks back would be good for Plan B, but she hoped that there'd be something closer.

For once they weren't screwed. Daria spotted a cement mixer and cement-pouring equipment about half a block away on East Second. _And where there is cement_, she thought, _there is usually sand_.

"Dusty," she said, taking Dusty's arm and then pointing. "Over there."

"That'll work," Dusty replied.

Dusty trotted over there and extended her hands outward. Daria watched with amazement as the sand and dirt from the construction site lifted off the ground, forming a growing, opaque dust cloud. Dusty turned around and started walking the cloud back towards the car lot, where another car's gas tank had just exploded. Dusty's dust cloud flew over and through the chain-link fence, damping the fire just as a Highland Fire Department fire truck pulled up. Together, Dusty and the firefighters extinguished the flames and removed the threat to the propane facility next door. Daria did very little except to help tear down the car lot's chain link fence and help the fire fighters with some heavy lifting once the fire was out.

Daria supposed that the downtown situation looked under control for The Powers That Be. The fire was out, the propane tanks wouldn't explode, and Beavis was neutralized, his fifty-foot corpse lying dead several blocks away. Daria supposed somebody felt good about this. Dusty certainly deserved multiple "Atta-Girls!" for her part. Daria didn't feel like she did for her part; she'd helped contain the fire but she still felt sick. Even worse, she knew that the situation wasn't over yet: where the Hell was Butthead?


	6. Chapter 6

Daria Wormstory Back To Highland Six

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language. We _are_ talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead you know. 

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland

Daria and Dusty returned to the command post shortly after the fire was put outs. She didn't see Captain Clueless. She would have dearly loved to see him gone, but with her luck, she suspected that he'd gone to the bathroom or reporting to Justice Department higher-ups.

The first person of her bosses to intercept her was Brooks Brother from Baltimore's PRT. "Welcome back," he said. "You did good."

"Thanks," said Daria. "I didn't do all that much. Dust Storm did most of the work."

"But you pitched in," Brooks Brother replied. "Don't put yourself down, Cynic. You rolled up your sleeves and did what you could."

The command post looked a lot more relaxed since Cornholio had been taken down. Daria noted that some of the bigwigs had vanished. She wondered how many of them were still in Highland, had gone to the main room to give a press conference, or were out in the back taking a smoking break. Coach Buzzcutt was still there looking forgotten. He still had the state troopers watching him, but they looked relaxed. She didn't know if he'd heard Captain Clueless use her civilian name but she suspected that Coach Buzzcutt was smart enough to figure out who she really was.

"Hey, Coach," she said.

"Morgendorffer," he said wonderingly. "I never thought that you'd be the sort who'd go for a dumb-ass costume."

"Cynic, please," said Daria. "I'd _**really**_ appreciate it if you don't refer to what's-her-name while I'm in costume."

"What made you do it?" asked Coach. "You weren't a glory-hound when you were here."

"Coach, I didn't want the party favor," said Daria. "I didn't ask for this: it just happened. Now I gotta deal with it."

"But a superheroine?" Coach Buzzcutt said incredulously.

"It's like those old Spiderman comics from years ago," said Daria. "I told myself that with great power comes great responsibility." 

-(((O-O)))- 

There were several monitors in the smaller room the PRT had appropriated for themselves. One of them showed the doings in the main auditorium: the Governor was giving a press conference. His response to Cornholio's demise was to congratulate the National Guard on a fine job and to lift the cordon surrounding downtown Highland. He also announced that the barricades blocking the major highways would be lifted and that traffic could resume on US Highway 87 and Interstate 20.

Daria thought that was premature. If she had been in charge, she wouldn't have opened the perimeter until Fyre had either been captured or neutralized. But she was all too aware that she was a teenaged girl and way down the chain of command. Superpowers or no, the high and the mighty were unlikely to listen to the likes of her.

One of the Parahuman Response Team techs was looking at some video. He tensed up, re-ran the footage, then Daria heard him say "Shit!".

"Ladies and Gentlemen, could I have your attention?" said New Guy. "We just learned that Fyre got through the perimeter."

Daria wasn't surprised. This was Highland after all.

She wondered how it happened. 

-(((O-O)))- 

Butthead woke up. He was sore all over and he felt like he had a splitting headache.

_What the Eff happened yesterday?_ He couldn't remember. It was like some dumb-ass monster movie, except that it was here instead of someplace cool like Tokyo or San Francisco. Beavis had grown to fifty feet high and he discovered that he could shoot fireballs.

He remembered the dream. Beavis had grown to fifty feet high and started walking and stomping: cars, people, houses, you name it. He might have gotten stomped himself except that he found he could throw fireballs. It was weird but cool.

Something had happened since yesterday morning, the last time he could remember anything clearly. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't in his house either. Instead he found himself lying on top of some large cardboard boxes in some room or other. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there—those blank spots happened sometimes, especially after he and Beavis found some good stuff that some of the stoners downtown sometimes handed out or dropped on the sidewalk.

Wherever he was, this place sucked. He scooted to the edge of his box-bed. He was hungry and thirsty and really needed to take a dump. He walked around the room looking for someplace to drop his load. There was something that looked like a toilet, but the dill-weeds that owned the building had locked it with a key. Eff them, he thought. He looked around for someplace to drop his load and found a trash can. That would have to do. He took off his shorts and underwear and did it, wiping with some dumb-ass paper that looked like the forms his boss had to fill out at Burger World, then put them on again.

His clothes stank. They smelled like he'd been too close to some fire or other. He could recognize some of the smells—burned rubber, burned plastic, burned wood, but he couldn't remember where he'd been. Maybe that dream was true, he thought happily. True or not, his smelly clothing bothered the Hell out of him. He wanted to change them.

He wondered if he could steal a change of clothing, or at least a change of shirts before he left, and started poking around a couple of open boxes. He soon found a couple of boxes of shirts, tees still in their plastic packaging. He opened several packages, finally finding one in his size. He was disappointed to learn that they advertised the Highland Harvest Festival, whatever the Eff that was. That was stupid but the shirt was clean and didn't stink. He threw his old shirt away and put on the new one.

He looked around for a way out of where he was. There were a couple of doors but they were either locked or too heavy to lift. (Duck). Finally he found a door with a red-painted push-handle. There was a sign above the words. it took him a while to puzzle out the words: it said DO NOT OPEN EXCEPT IN CASE OF EMERGENCY. He remembered opening those types of doors a couple of times before and how it had honked off McVicker and Buzzcutt. Should he open it, or did he want to remain in this dump all day? He decided to take his chances and start running when the door opened.

He put his hands against the bar and pushed. The door opened, but there was no noise. Butthead didn't know why there wasn't any, but he wasn't going to stay around to find out.

He stepped outside. 

-(((O-O)))— 

He started for home. The first block or two looked like some holiday in downtown Highland, except that there was nobody driving around and a couple of doofuses had just left their cars in the street with their doors open like they were running away from something. He walked over to an REO Bruiser pickup and saw that the dill-brain who'd abandoned his truck had also abandoned a cooler and a loaf of bread. Butthead got into the cab, opened the cooler, and saw a six-pack of beer which was still nice and cold despite the fact that the cooler's ice had mostly melted.

He drank some beer, ate several pieces of bread, and began to feel better. _Where the Eff was Beavis_, he wondered.

Another block and he began to see that something had trashed some of the cars and buildings. It was like someone had stomped or kicked them. That was cool, and it made him smile. He wondered who did it. It would have been cool to watch it.

He saw movement a couple of blocks away. He decided to play it smart and dropped the beer can. He hated leaving it, but the cops got all pissy when they saw guys walking around with an open beer can. Besides, he'd drunk most of it anyway. 

-(((O-O)))- 

Corporal Biedermeyer decided that he hated downtown Highland. His unit had been hastily mobilized and sent to Highland to help with disaster relief and help the cops hold a perimeter. The giant Cornholio and the flame-throwing Fyre had called it a day by the time he got here. He and his boys spent a nervous night with the cops holding the perimeter while the Governor and the Feds got the Protectorate to send a response team their way. He'd done little since he got here except put up barricades and hope that the two supervillains weren't bullet-proof.

A short time ago he heard a tank fire a round. He soon learned that one of the supervillains was down: the round had put a hole through Cornholio. That would have been OK except that the round set off a fire in a used car lot which could have caused the propane dealership next to it to go up in smoke. The super heroes had arrived and finally did something: a couple of them had helped the fire department put out the fire.

The Governor and other powers-that-be decided that he and his fellow Guardsmen needed to secure more of central Highland, so he and his guys and a couple of state and local cops advanced several blocks and were then told to stop. Their perimeter had now passed a small residential neighborhood and a couple of cops were busy knocking on doors and asking residents to evacuate to the south so that he and the cops wouldn't endanger any civilians if they found the other Supervillain and things got rough.

The process had taken a while. Several of the evacuees had taken time to gather up some food, water, and belongings before they left their houses. Not all of them were young and spry; several of them were old and needed help to get from their homes to his position. The new refugees were now at his de facto checkpoint and were waiting to be let through while he and the cops were waiting for permission to let them go through. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Butthead finished munching on the bread and let the loaf fall to the ground. He saw cops in black body-armor carrying big guns and a couple of what he thought were tanks rolling through the streets and decided that he really, really didn't want to be noticed.

The weird thing was that he _wasn't_ noticed. The cops and soldiers were looking this way and that, yet somehow failed to see him as he walked in the other direction. He wondered why they were so stupid. How could they miss him? He was right there.

That might have been cool except the guys driving cop cars and the Army stuff didn't notice him either. He nearly got run over a couple of times. It finally got to him: "Watch where you're going, you dumb-ass!" he shouted as another rubber-tired tank rolled by after nearly clipping him.

Several blocks later, he came to the edge of a crowd of people waiting for some doo-brain soldier in camouflage to let them go through. Butthead decided that this was a way to beat the Heat. He'd simply follow these people through and then head for home. Maybe Mom and Bart had something in the refrigerator.

When he got closer he saw that his idea wasn't as easy as he'd thought. There was a checkpoint, too narrow for him to get in the center of a crowd and just walk on through. Worse, someone had set up a video-camera which that weird voice inside him told him they were probably sending somewhere else. Even more so, the soldiers were stopping people before letting them through. They could and did let people go through the checkpoint, but only after their boss looked at their faces and then at their computer.

Butthead stopped and tried to think his way through the problem. Thinking was something he didn't do very well. Finally that weird voice spoke to him and told him to get in line.

The line moved slowly as the soldier ass-hats looked at the people's ID cards. The boss soldier looked at their faces, read their ID cards, checked something in the computer, then let them through with a wave. However slowly, the line kept moving and Butthead kept moving forward. Glance, ID card, computer, pass. Glance, ID card, computer, pass. Glance, ID card, computer, pass. All Butthead had was his school ID card and he wondered if it would be good enough. He was just about to say something when that voice in his head spoke up again. "Don't say anything. Just walk on through."

It was now Butthead's turn. Some goofball was standing behind him and shoved against his back. Butthead was about to jab him in annoyance when the voice spoke again. "Don't. Just keep moving."

Butthead moved forward and it was like the Boss soldier and his buddies didn't see him: no order to stop, no demand for ID card, not even a wave to let him pass. It was like they didn't even notice him.

Weird, thought Butthead. He wasn't going to knock it, though. He kept on going.

The video camera was still running, and if Corporal Biedermeyer didn't pay any attention to Butthead, a Parahuman Response Team tech watching its feed in Highland's city auditorium was. He watched in astonishment as the main suspect still at large just walked right through the checkpoint as if he wasn't there.

"SHIT!" he shouted. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland*Daria: Back to Highland

Author's notes:

Butthead's new tee shirt advertises Highland's Harvest Festival, a made-up holiday pushed by certain Highland Protestant Christian Churches to replace the celebration of Halloween. Anyone unfamiliar with Butthead wearing such a shirt would be less likely to see him as the engine of mayhem and destruction he turns into in _Beavis_ _and_ _Butthead_.

REO: REO was an independent automobile manufacturing company that made automobiles and trucks from 1905 to 1967. I decided to keep them in operation in this parallel universe to show that this is neither our time line nor that of Earth Bet, the universe where the events of the canon Worm story take place.


	7. Chapter 7

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover. Chapter Seven

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language. We _are_ talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead, you know.

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland

Daria got permission to call home and tell her parents that she was still all right. She decided she'd use one of the auditorium building's side rooms if there was one unlocked and available. She'd call Dad; Mom was likely to be tied up conferring with clients, other lawyers, or tied up in court.

She called his number using her Parahuman Response Team cell phone, reaching the electronic menu that allowed callers to either speak to their contracts or leave messages. She pressed "1" on her PRT cell to speak to her Dad.

"Hello?" said Jake. He sounded worried and wary.

"It's me, Dad," said Daria. "I'm in Texas and I'm OK."

"Oh, thank God!" Jake exclaimed. "Your Mom and I have been worried sick since you got to Baltimore. I was afraid that one of those maniacs hurt you."

"I'm still alive and kicking," said Daria.

"The television says that one of those two is down," said Jake. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," said Daria. "I was helping out but I didn't see the body."

"What about the other one?" said Jake.

"I can't really talk about him," Daria. "We're now playing hide-and-go-seek and he's still out there."

"Hunh?" said Jake, then he mentally shifted gears. "Hah! Hah! Good one, kiddo!"

"Anyhow, I wanted to let you and Mom and Quinn know that I'm probably going to be here for the rest of today and possibly tomorrow," said Daria. "Could you call them and tell them that I'm still OK?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," said Jake.

"Take care," said Daria. "I love you." She clicked the "End Call" button on her PRT phone, then put it away.

She started walking back to the room the PRT had appropriated as their command post and peeked into the main auditorium. The hapless Corporal Biedermeyer and his men had been relieved from their check point and brought in to headquarters. They were currently undergoing a very hostile debriefing.

She looked at the Corporal and scowled. Biedermeyer was in his lower thirties and looked like a Bubba in uniform. _How the Hell did he and his guys let Butthead waltz right through their checkpoint_, she wondered.

"How effing sloppy can you get!" Daria said bitterly. "He was right there. _Right there!_ _In plain Effing sight!_" She stopped when she realized that she sounded like Dad in the middle of one of his rants.

She was so focused on watching Biedermeyer go through the ringer that she didn't notice Brooks Brother quietly sidle up beside her.

"Cynic," he said.

"Sir," Daria replied. She wasn't quite ready to call him Brooks Brother to his face.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think he messed up," said Daria. "He let Butthead, I mean Fyre, go right through the checkpoint. It looks like the higher-ups decided that was his screw-up."

"It might be," said Brooks Brother. "I'm beginning to think that it might not be Biedermeyer's fault."

"Hunh?" said Daria. This was new.

"Your old friend may have more up his sleeve than we thought," said Brooks Brother.

"He's can't. He's an effing idiot," said Daria.

"Cynic, what do you remember about how Stranger powers are classified?" said Brooks Brother.

"Stranger powers include obscuring and altering the senses of others, affecting the target's mind to distract or debilitate using such techniques as hallucinations or perception filters, granting invisibility, stealth or various forms of camouflage, Imitating others in appearance. voice, and mannerisms," Daria recited.

Her eyes widened.

"Oops," she said. _She should have thought of that_. "So you think he might be learning how to use that ability?"

"It's quite possible," said Brooks Brother.

"So it's likely that the only way someone walking around might notice Fyre is when Fyre is either not using his stranger ability or when he wants to be seen," said Daria. _This sounds like bad _Monty Python, she thought.

"It's a new ball game, or at least another inning," said Brooks Brother.

"The Protectorate is still learning how to deal with Capes with Stranger powers, so we're open to any good input we get from the field," said Brooks Brother. "So what are your ideas?"

"Aside from setting up video cameras with remote monitoring here and there at the idiots' hang-outs?" said Daria. "There's that telephone canvassing idea I mentioned on the flight over here."

"We might use those," said Brooks Brother. "Anything else?"

"I know how those guys' minds work," said Daria. "I have one more idea, but it's very embarrassing. I'm going to have to ask the female team members for assistance and do some local shopping."

"Should I ask you want you have in mind?" said Brooks Brother.

"I'm thinking of going into Butthead's old neighborhood and I want to increase the chances for Butthead wanting to be seen," said Daria.

"Do you want any male members on your search teams?" asked Brooks Brother.

"It wouldn't hurt, but I need at least one team that's all-girl," said Daria.

"I think the Governor will want to try a conventional house-to-house search using cops, PRT troopers, and the National Guard first," said Brooks Brothers.

"Well, all I ask is to keep my idea as Plan B in case they turn up empty," said Daria. She thought about the boys' hormones and sexual frustration and smiled. She knew who she'd ask first.

-(((O-O)))—

The house-to-house search started. Sometimes the cops and National Guardsmen were let in by the nervous Highlanders, sometimes they were told to get out and stay out and not come back unless they have a warrant. Some of the searches turned up some of Highland's low-lives, most turned up nothing.

Beavis' house was searched again, infuriating Mrs. Underland, who cursed the police and governor for killing her son. So was Daria's old house, despite the fact that she hadn't lived there for well over a year. Beavis' house was searched, Butthead's house was searched, too, only this time someone either attached to the PRT used the opportunity to plant a remote camera that would transmit what it picked up to a PRT van parked blocks away.

Daria, her fellow Marylanders, and the Texas PRT teams sat around in their headquarters making small talk and waiting for something to happen.

There was a knock on the door and Brooks Brother came in. "Cynic, could I see you for a moment, please?"

"Sure," said Daria. She rose and followed him out to the hallway.

"I've decided to stick my neck out and get your Plan B set up," said Brooks Brother. "What do you need?"

"For starters I need a couple of ski masks and then I need to get access to a couple of motorcycles," said Daria. "After that I'm going to have to do some shopping."

"Where do you want to go?" he said. "The Governor won't like it if you have to go too far out of town."

"There used to be a Honda dealership that sold motorcycles," said Daria. "There's also a shopping mall here and there should be a store called Hott Ttarts. It's local."

"Do I want to know anything more?" he said.

"I'm going to need to talk to the ladies," said Daria. "Without the guys. You can come, but I'd like you to stay in the background."

"Are you planning to dress up and just cruise around or do you have something in mind?" he asked.

"Butthead likes looking, and he hits on girls," Daria. "If we see him and he hits on us, we'll either restrain him or we'll hit him back."

"I hope you don't flash anything," he said.

"Not unless there's a wardrobe malfunction," Daria replied.

"Interesting, and unorthodox," said Brooks Brother, resuming his official role.

"It's an idea that would work here," said Daria. "I'm not sure that it would work either in Baltimore or even in Lawndale."

Neither of them said anything.

"I'll see what I can do," said Brooks Brother. "Let's go back."

-(((O-O)))—

Daria re-entered the room the PRT members had claimed for her own and sat down.

Tall Vixen got up and sat next to her. "Hey, girl, what did you talk about?" she said.

"I had a bad idea," said Daria. "If we use it, I'll never hear the end of it."

-(((O-O)))-

There was a knock on the door and a new suit walked in.

"I'm Ike Clanton," he said. "I'm the new co-ordinator for you guys as well as the police and the National Guard." Most of the Marylanders and some of the Texans looked at Clanton inexpressively; Daria and several of the Texans did their best to avoid smirking. _It looks like most of us don't know the players from the shootout at the OK Corral,_ she thought.

"What happened to Mr. Barger?" asked Stronghold.

"He was relieved," replied Mr. Clanton. "He outed a PRT operative."

"I'm sure most of you have heard how the search is going," he continued. "We're having trouble locating Mr. Headley. At this point we've decided to assume that he has some sort of Stranger power."

"What sort of Stranger power?" asked Rounder.

"He apparently has found a way to cause people not to notice he's there," Mr. Clanton replied. Daria tried to make another blank face and failed. A couple of years ago, Butthead would have given anything to have such an ability.

"I understand Ms. Cynic has an idea for finding this Fyre guy," said Mr. Clanton.

Daria stood up and walked over to where Mr. Clanton was standing.

"My idea needs the assistance of some of the ladies on our teams," she said. "Before we do anything, I need to talk about it with the ladies alone. Just us girls, and maybe a suit to keep us out of trouble."

"What, you're leaving us guys out of this?" said Whirlwind.

"We might be able to use a guy or two, but he's going to have to be a very convincing cross-dresser," said Daria.

Whirlwind promptly sat down.

"Cynic, take one of the conference rooms and start working on your ideas" said Mr. Clanton.

"All right, ladies, follow me," said Daria, hoping that she'd managed to show at least a trace of command presence in her voice.

-(((O-O)))—

The girl Capes stood up and followed Daria out the door. There was an empty office over to the side with an unlocked door. Daria decided that she'd appropriate it as a meeting room.

"Thanks for trusting me," said Daria. "Like I said, it's something only us girls can do, and it's a little embarrassing. I'll tell you about it in just a minute."

"Before we get started, I need to know who else here can drive a motorcycle?"

The show of hands was less than she'd hoped. Daria had raised her hand. So did Hydro. To her disappointment, she learned that neither Fly Girl nor Dust Storm had raised their hands. Neither had Tall Vixen.

"OK, what I have in mind is that we cruise by the remaining idiot's neighborhood and see if we can sport him," said Daria.

"But Mr. Clanton said that he has a Stranger power that keeps us from noticing him," Hydro objected.

"That he does," said Daria. "But I'm gambling that he won't use it if he wants to hit on us."

"You aren't serious, are you?" said Dusty.

"Afraid so," said Daria.

"Euuuuwww," said Dusty.

"I agree," said Daria. "He hit on me too. But I'll be right out there with you dressed to see if I can attract his attention."

"I know how those guys' minds work," said Daria. "I have one more idea, but it's very embarrassing. I'm going to have to ask one of the female team members for assistance and do some local shopping."


	8. Chapter 8

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover. Chapter Eight

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language and post-puberty situations, nothing graphic. Neither Beavis nor Butthead are known for their G-rated vocabulary.

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland

Great Basin PRT Headquarters  
Las Vegas, Nevada  
March 9th, 2012

"And for our next discussion leader, I'd like to welcome Cynic," said Thunderer, current head of the Las Vegas PRT.

An auburn-haired woman rose from her seat and walked carefully over to the podium. Most of her face was covered, but her face and left hand were light-skinned. Several of the Capes attending the workshop noticed that her left leg was a prosthetic, as was her right arm.

"Thank you," said Cynic. "The purpose of this workshop is to examine the actions taken by the teams on the ground at the time, judge if they were adequate in the face of the potential threat posed by individuals possessing Master—Stranger powers, and what approaches might have been more appropriate. I am going to be presenting a relatively early PRT operation against a pair of recently-Triggered Parahumans we shall call Fyre and Cornholio.

Several of the Capes sitting around the table chuckled.

"I participated in this operation. I was living in Maryland at the time and was called up and brought in with the Baltimore—Wilmington PRT team, along with the PRT team operating out of Midland, Texas. At first, it looked like our services weren't needed. One of the Capes was taken down by the main gun of a military tank."

A hand went up. Cynic acknowledged it, and said "Could you introduce yourself please?"

"Haboob," said the Cape, a male dressed in a tan costume. Cynic thought of Dust Storm and smiled.

"Did the people leading the operation consider that the remaining Cape might have possessed Master powers?"

"We did not," said Cynic. "We learned that Fyre not only had the ability to throw fireballs, but also to walk through checkpoints unnoticed. However, we did not assume that he had other Master-like powers. Considering what happened to other PRT teams against other supervillains later on, we should have."

She clicked on her remote, several computer menus opened, as did some files, and a file labelled Highland October 1999 opened. The file was audio-visual and showed a younger Cynic with all of her limbs intact standing next to a busty blonde girl about her age. Both were wearing brightly-colored tank-tops and skintight spandex trousers, exposing taut waistlines and showing cleavage. Motorcycle helmets with dust masks covered their faces and heads. Cynic's sexy look was marred by a pair of very kick- $$ boots.

"Wooo," said several male capes in the conference room. Daria glared at them in response.

"Those weren't our normal costumes, so please set your imaginations at rest," said Cynic. Her remark was followed by more chuckling.

The next image showed Cynic and the same tall blonde Cape mounted on a motorcycle.

"What sort of motorcycle is that?" a cape panelist asked.

"A Honda Valkyrie," replied Cynic.

"Was that after Leviathan attacked Japan?" asked the panelist.

"Before," said Cynic.

-(((O-O)))—

Highland, Texas  
October, 1999

Once Brooks Brother gave his approval, Daria set about getting a motorcycle. The Municipal Auditorium had copies of the Yellow Pages, and she quickly discovered that the Honda dealer she'd remembered as being on I-20 was still there. _Someday, someone will have search engines and I'll be able to do this on-line_, she thought. The dealership also sold motorcycles. Using Brooks Brother's authority, she and Hydro were quickly transported to the Honda dealership. So were a couple of National Guardsmen possessing motorcycle licenses. Daria wondered why they had come along and soon learned that the dealership was reluctant to let Daria and Hydro drive their bikes off the lot by themselves. Daria and Hydro had to produce their official PRT beta-cards (The ones lacking their civilian identities) showing their vehicle endorsements before the salesman would let them mount their bikes. Daria let her evil side come to the front and invited the salesman to come along for a ride. He nervously mounted behind her, and Daria left the lot, drove down to the next underpass, then circled around and back to the dealership. Nothing fancy, really, although she'd itched at the chance to show the guy what she could really do.

The dealership quickly settled. Officially, the motorcycles were being sold to the Protectorate, a unit of the United States Federal Government and the Department of Justice. Officially neither the dealership nor the salesmen knew that either Daria or Hydro would be driving the bikes; instead, in a remarkable feat of see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, they acted as if the two Texas National Guardsmen would be doing the actual driving.

While the deal was being made and the paperwork being signed, Daria phoned Brittany.

She dialed Brittany's civilian cell phone number. Brittany picked up.

"Heyyyy," she said. "What's taking you guys so long?"

"We're taking care of the paperwork," said Daria. "Brooks Brother has about finished signing all the documents. The PRT's gonna own the motorcycles, not me and Hydro."

"The dealership won't let me and Hydro drive the bikes off the lot, either. We'll have to pick them up at the Auditorium or nearby. How're things going on at your end?"

"We got to the Mall," said Brittany. "Your friend Dusty and the girls from Baltimore are already shopping. I hate to tell you, girl, the stores in Lawndale have better selections."

"You're telling me," Daria said sardonically. "That's why what's-her-name in the Fashion Club started doing cartwheels when we came East."

"Oh—" said Brittany. She acted like she was about to say Quinn. "Her," she finished.

"I hope to join you guys in about half an hour," said Daria. "Leave something for me and Hydro to put on." The sale was completed moments after Daria clicked the off key on her PRT cell phone. She shook the salesman's hand, grimaced at his bonhomie behind her costume's mask, and hoped that she'd guessed right and that he didn't remember one Daria Morgendorffer, formerly a student at Highland High School.

She got into the standard-issue Government Services Administration sedan that Brooks Brother had obtained. So did Hydro. Both girls looked wistfully back at the two motorcycles the Protectorate had just bought. Daria didn't know Hydro that well but didn't doubt that they were both sharing the same feeling: regret that they couldn't drive the bikes off the lot.

"Where to next?" asked Brooks Brother.

"The Mall," said Daria. "I'll guide you there."

"We do have GPS," said Brooks Brother.

"I did grow up here," Daria replied. "I can tell you what streets to take and where to turn."

-(((O-O)))-

A short time later they were at the Mall. The Mall had changed very little since Daria had lived there. The presence of so many cops and PRT troopers did not cause a large crowd to form like she'd feared—instead, they'd caused most of the shoppers to give them space, something Daria greatly appreciated.

Daria's first stop was Sultry Girlz, a store catering to Highland's wanna-be vamps and sirens. It was the sort of store that Daria wouldn't have been caught dead in a year and a half ago. _It's for the mission_, she told herself. _It's for the mission_.

She turned to Hydro. Despite the fact that it was difficult to make out facial expressions under dust masks and bandanas, Hydro did not look happy to be there either. "If this makes you uncomfortable, I apologize," said Daria.

"Your idea is nuts but I gotta do it one time in my life," said Hydro.

To put it bluntly, the selection wasn't that good. Part of the reason was that the store had last restocked ten days ago and a lot of Highland's girls had already done their shopping and that the other members of the Parahuman Response Team had already been through. Despite their inroads, Daria was able to find a low-cut tank top that fit her: Hydro was amused at how far Daria could blush. The Gods of Fashion chose mercy on Hydro and she was able to find a pair of street-legal leopard-print leggings that fit her: not much call for these among the girls with an Earth-mother build, the store clerk apologetically explained.

Brooks Brother was standing outside the store looking professional.

"All through, ladies?" he said.

"'Fraid not," said Daria. "Hydro needs a top; I need a bottom."

"Where to next?" Brother.

"Upstairs," said Daria, her heart and voice heavy. There was one other store she thought she'd try.

-(((O-O)))—

They didn't get there immediately. Hydro found a rock and roll shop called Very Bad Attitude. Very Bad Attitude not only sold rock and roll collectibles, but it also sold tees. Hydro bought two: one that said "CAN'T TOUCH THIS" and another that said "BOY BREAKER." She walked up to the cash register wearing what must have been a smile of satisfaction under her dust mask. "I'm done," she announced.

The cashier had a warped sense of humor: she'd place a recently-laminated laminated display showing snapshots of the two idiots captioned "Two of Our Satisfied Customers." In other times Daria might have been amused, but not today. Beavis and Butthead's rampage through town had left dead people as well as injured ones.

They kept walking, Daria hoping that the store might have been sold off and that she might have to settle for cut-off shorts. No such luck: Hott TTarts was still in business. She swallowed, gritted her teeth and walked in.

The displays were—horrible. The clothing styles looked like something streetwalkers might wear. Daria scowled under her mask and momentarily thought about bolting. Her plans were thwarted by a pink-haired, gum-chewing salesgirl only a few years older than she was. "You guys must be the other two members of the PRT team," said the salesgirl. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," said Daria.

"You can guess what sort of clothing we're looking for," she said.

"Show your skin and your assets, right?" said the salesgirl. "What for? Are you goin' to a party or somethin'? Cool! Would you mind if my boyfriend and I crash it?"

"No party," said Daria. "But if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

The salesgirl started laughing. "Yew are so funny!" she said. "So what do yew have in mind?"

Daria had decided to settle on low-cut waist-hugging pants cut denim style but lacking rear pockets. Some fashion criminal had made them with stretching fabric. Daria took a couple of pairs to try on for size, got into the dressing room and closed the door.

She took off her costume, then put on one of the pants she'd brought in from the main floor. The changing booth was cramped but there was enough room to approximate a Yoga-style stretch. She smiled in satisfaction: so far, so good. She then leaned to the left and brought up her leg to about where she could kick someone in the chest. The fabric was supple enough to allow her to do so. She took those off, then put on the other ones.

A minute or so later, she heard the salesgirl talking to someone with a high, squeaky voice with a mid-Atlantic accent. She still didn't like what she was wearing. _I'm not really up to this_, she thought, _but I gotta do it_. She swallowed. It looked like it was time to show what leadership skills she had: that she could not only talk the talk but walk the walk.

"Hey, Tall Vixen, I'm in here," she said.

Brittany opened the door, took one look at Daria and her jaw opened in surprise.

"Hey, Girl, look at you!" she exclaimed.

Daria blushed.

"Thank you, I think," said Daria.

"I could eat you alive," said Brittany, licking her lips.

_Eeep_, thought Daria. _Was she going to hit on me?_ Daria was sufficiently attuned to Lawndale High's gossip networks to know that that Brittany was not only unfaithful to Kevin, but occasionally sampled other girls when she strayed.

"I'd like to—stay off the menu—for a while," said Daria. "We've still got business here."

Daria saw Brittany's body-language change from "_admiration_" to "_pout_."

"Seriously, I'm glad you're here," said Daria. "I'm a little uncomfortable and I'm not sure my fashion sense is temporarily numb."

Brittany looked Daria over. Great figure, nice bust, taut midriff, thighs maybe a bit too big. The leggings definitely showed off her figure to its best advantage. _She ought to show it off more often_, she thought.

_Oops_, she told herself. _Get back to work, Girl!_

"if he doesn't see what you're showing off, he's like a monk or something," said Brittany.

_Brittany knows what a monk is_, Daria asked herself. _Someone must have hit the books while my back was turned_. She blushed, not only her face turning red, but the skin on her neck and down to her chest.

"OK?" said Daria, a note of doubt seeping into her voice.

"OK, Girl," Brittany replied.

"So let's get rung up," said Daria. Her blush only gradually faded away.

They walked out the store's main entrance and found the other female team members waiting for them.

"Took you guys long enough," said Fly Girl.

"Oh, you know me: Miss Fashionista," Daria replied deadpan.

Brittany began laughing.

"So where to next?" said Dusty.

"Kicker's Boots," said Daria. "We need some good footwear before we kick Butthead's butt."

-(((O-O)))—

The boots weren't really necessary, at least not for Daria. She could ride her own machine as well as the Hondas without them. Her main concern was for the other team members: girls like Vixen, Dust Storm, and Fly Girl. She wasn't sure how well they'd be able to sit on a bike.

She still wasn't. But it was the best that they could do.

-(((O-O)))—

The cops and the National Guard had again tossed the Boys' neighborhood without finding Butthead. Despite that, the 911 dispatcher had gotten indignant calls from a couple of neighbors living a block or so away from Butthead's house saying that they'd spotted him looking through their windows. Another neighbor, Mrs. Jennings, said that he'd unzipped his trousers and asked her if she wanted to get it on. The latter detail was not shared during the final briefing.

Butthead had again been sighted, the police and Guardsmen were turning up empty, and the Governor was increasingly embarrassed by the lack of progress. A decision was made, the Decider decided, and both Mr. Clanton and Brooks Brother called a meeting for the joint PRT task force.

In the meantime, Daria had persuaded both Stronghold and Rounder to get the Powers-That-Be to provide some local street maps with photocopies showing the neighborhood where the Boys usually hung out. Daria marked not only the idiots' parents' houses, which had been repeatedly searched, but also her old house and Mr. Anderson's too. She also suggested a stake-out at the local Maxi-Mart , suggesting that someone bribe the clers so Butthead would be sure to get free nachos and hopefully stay put long enough to get collared.

Their planning was interrupted by Brooks Brother. "OK, people, you have a go," he said. "The Governor has approved your suggestion."

"How do we let you guys know if we find Fyre?" Daria asked.

"Your helmets have all been fitted with Tinkertech radios, along with earphone and throat mikes," said Brooks Brother. "We should hear you five by five. Disengage if you think Fyre is carrying Firearms."

"All right, ladies, let's change and then mount up," said Daria, rising from her chair.

Half an hour later, four girls in very alluring if tasteless outfits strode out the the two awaiting motorcycles. Vixen mounted up behind Daria, Dusty behind Hudro. With the sound of rumbling engines, the girls rolled out of the parking lot behind the Municipal Auditorium and towards Daria's old neighborhood.


	9. Chapter 9

_Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover_. Chapter Nine

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language. Beavis and Butthead are not known for their squeaky-clean thoughts or vocabulary. That's something you should have figured out by now. 

Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland* Daria: Back to Highland 

Butthead passed through the checkpoint and walked home. Somebody really had a bee up their butt. Highland was crawling with cops and soldiers. Butthead wondered what it was about.

He also wondered where Beavis was hanging out. He hadn't seen him since yesterday. Or was it the day before? It wasn't like him not to call or come over. He wondered if Todd had beaten him up or something, then dismissed it. Beavis had probably done something stupid, but he was probably OK. He'd turn up later.

He walked to his house and found that somebody had covered the front door with yellow tape. He frowned, then slowly started to read the words on the tape: C-R-I-M-E S-C-E-N-E- D-O N-O-T C-R-O-S-S. He wondered what the Eff that was about, tried to open the door, and found that it was locked. _Eff this_, he thought. He walked over to the place where his Mom hid the key to the back door, found it, then walked around the side of the house to the back.

The douchebags who'd taped up his front door had also taped up his back door. _ Asshats_, he thought. Dang it, he was hungry and tired. He tore the tape aside, unlocked the door, and went inside.

The house was a mess. The asshats who'd taped up the doors had trashed the insides of the house. They'd done stuff fifty times worse than he and Beavis had ever done: they'd torn everything down from the walls, slit up the sofa and the cushions, broken holes in the walls, and sliced up the carpets. He went into the kitchen and discovered to his horror that they'd emptied the shelves and the refrigerator and strewn everything around on the floor.

Dang it!

He wondered if the TV was OK. He went back to the living room and found that it wasn't: the asshats had smashed the tube.

Dang it, that made him angry. He felt the air shiver with heat beyond the ends of his fingertips. A part of him really wanted to cut loose.

"_Not in the house, you idiot!"_ said that weird voice that had been speaking to him off and on. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Meanwhile, the girl Capes had passed through the former downtown perimeter and had driven to the what Daria called the Old Neighborhood. For some reason known only unto himself, the Governor had allowed the families living in the area an hour's grace period to pack up clothing, food stuff, and camping gear to take to the evacuation point where the residents' cars, trucks, and RVs would be searched to find traces of Butthead. She wondered if someone would think of something smart—like whacking loose bedding or clothing with a big stick, or if their search procedures would allow Butthead to slip through their cordon yet again.

Daria had Brittany seated behind her. She'd mentally plotted out several search patterns, then decided to act on one she'd nicknamed Daria-Alpha. She turned off Old Tuna Highway, took a right on Panther Lane, then took a left on Wagon Wheel, braking to a stop at a one-story wooden house. She turned the key to the bike and let the motor die.

"What's important about this place?" asked Brittany.

"That's where I grew up," said Daria. "My family used to live there."

"Sure is small," said Brittany.

"Yeah it is," Daria replied.

"Let's check it out," said Daria. The girls got off the motorcycle.

The house looked much like it did when she'd lived there. The big difference was that the new owners had painted it yellow with brown trim and had replaced Dad's water-hungry flower bushes with more drought-resistant plants.

Was there anyone there? Daria didn't think so. No cars were in the driveway and the lights were out. It didn't look like anyone was at home. She rang the doorbell: no response. She walked back to the motorcycle.

"Let's check the perimeter," said Daria. She'd put a collapsible baton in the saddlebag and pulled it out.

She decided that even if she was going to go cowgirl, she'd better check in with headquarters. "Vixen One to Central, come in," she said.

"This is Central, come in," was the response.

"We are checking out a residence at 1745 Wagon Wheel, over," said Daria.

_Well, this wasn't really a priority area but it was possible that Butthead might have come by_, she told herself.

"Acknowledged," Central replied. "And for goshsakes be careful."

They carefully walked around the side of the old house and were about to look at the back yard when they were startled by a voice next door.

"Hello, who's there?" said the voice.

Fortunately, Daria recognized who it was. "I'm going to break cover, Vixen," she said.

"Hello, Mrs. Salter!" said Daria. "It's me, Daria. I was in the area and was just looking over the old house."

Mrs. Salter opened her back door and walked over to the chain link fence dividing the two properties.

"Hello, Daria, what are you doing here?" she said.

"Just passing through," said Daria, letting her collapsible baton fall to the ground.

"I thought you moved," said Mrs. Salter.

"I did," said Daria. "I'm just here for a visit."

"Why are you wearing that dust mask?" said Mrs. Salter.

"Allergies," Daria replied.

"You've gotten bigger," said Mrs. Salter. She looked at Daria's and Brittany's outfits. Daria could see that she disapproved. "And you've picked a hell of a time to come visit."

_That's an understatement_, thought Daria.

"I heard there was trouble," said Daria. "Something about those two boys."

"Yeah, those two," Mrs. Salter replied. "I always thought they'd come to no good. I'm glad that your mother put her foot down and forbade them to come around here."

Oops. That was not something Daria wanted Brittany to hear.

"Speaking of no good, you should do something about your clothes," said Mrs. Salter. "Your mother would be upset. You' know you're not that kind of girl."

_Time to change the subject_, thought Daria. "You haven't seen either one of them this morning, have you?" she said. _Quinn was a much better liar than you are, girl_, she told herself. _She'd sound more convincing._

"I haven't," said Mrs. Salter. "And the Griersons have already left. I'm also going to clear out. You ought to do the same."

"I'll do that," said Daria. "Nice to see you." _And darn it, it was good to see that she was still around_.

"Let's go," Daria said to Brittany. She stooped over and picked up her collapsible baton after Mrs. Salter's back was turned. 

-(((O-O)))- 

Butthead walked over to Beavis' Mom's place. He saw a surly-looking Deputy standing in the driveway and saw Beavis' mom loading stuff into her boyfriend's truck. For a moment there, Butthead thought that the cop could see him, too. The Deputy looked his way, tensed up and pulled out his pistol. He then started looking this way and that as if Butthead had disappeared right in front of him.

That was cool. The deputy looked like a doofus. He was tempted too shout "Here I am, you weiner-brain!" but that darn voice told him not to, so he didn't. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Daria and Brittany got back on the bike. Daria started it up.

"I guess he's not there, I hope," said Daria.

Daria's radio crackled. "Central to Vixen One, the target has been sighted," it said.

"This is Vixen One, we copy," Daria replied.

"Target has been sighted at 1207 Cleburne, over," said the radio. Daria recognized the address: that was Beavis' mother's place. Daria wondered if Butthead was still there or if he'd had just enough sense to move on.

"Message received," said Daria. "On our way. Over." 

-(((O-O)))— 

The trip to Beavis' house was completely different from her trip through the perimeter to her old house. The houses and cars in Daria's old neighborhood were still largely intact: the Boys' rampage had taken them is a different direction. The shift from suburbia to the area around Beavis' old house was like a slap in the face.

It was the first time Daria had ever seen the trail of real violence near any place she'd ever lived. She was horrified. It was like a war zone. There were burned out houses and flattened cars on every block. There was a lot of yellow tape.

_I'm going to have to put a stop to this_, she told herself. _Can I do it, or am I just a silly suburbanite playing at superhero?_

The cops and the National Guard had pulled back from the 1200 block of Cleburne. The cops and National Guard had formed a perimeter a couple of blocks away from Beavis' mom's place and forced Daria to stop. Daria and Vixen had to produce their PRT badges and make a couple of radio calls to get the cops to let them cross.

"Let's see if we can trick him, then nail his ass," said Daria.

There were still some stragglers on the street. Daria wondered what the Hell they were still doing there. She thought they'd have better sense. _This was Highland, for Goshsakes!_ There'd been gang-fights, shootouts, and drive-bys even before the two idiots Triggered. Didn't they realize that this was as likely as not going to be a super-power free-fire zone? 

-(((O-O)))— 

Butthead saw one of Beavis' neighbors from across the street loading their stuff into their truck. The Pettys were squares but they always seemed to have food in their house, even if they never shared it with Beavis' mom or any of her boyfriends. He watched them going in and out and had an idea. He'd follow Mr. Petty into their house, stay out of their way, then raid their refrigerator after they drove off.

The Pettys left while Butthead remained behind. He was in their house and munching on some hot dogs that he'd warmed up in their microwave when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle outside. He looked out the window and saw two hot chicks on a motorcycle: a tall one and a short one wearing helmets and little else. Not only that, they were stopping. He couldn't believe his luck. This sort of thing never happened to him.

"Whoa," he said. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Daria slowed the motorcycle down to a stop and turned off the key. "OK, this is it," she said.

There were still people loading up their cars and trucks. A couple of younger teenaged boys stopped what they were doing and stared at Daria's and Vixen's outfits.

_Well,_ somebody's _hormones have just been activated_, thought Daria, _just not the right one's_. 

-(((O-O)))- 

Butthead swallowed the hot-dog he was eating, then washed it down with a store-brand cola the Pettys had in the fridge. He wanted beer but there wasn't any. The Pettys were too dang cheap to have real cola, instead they had this weird stuff. Butthead though it tasted like dog piss.

He went back to the Pettys' living room window. The hot chicks were still there; in fact they'd gotten off their motorcycle and had taken off their helmets. For some reason they were wearing face-masks, like mad doctors He could see that the tall one was blonde and the short one was a red-head like Diarrhea. That couldn't be Diarrhea, he told himself. The short chick was too hot.

He stood there enraptured. The two girls were wearing halter tops and tight pants. They both had Thingies: the tall blonde had big ones. The short one tilted her head back and ran her fingers through her hair, just like hot chicks sometimes did in the movies. He wondered if this was a set-up. _It could be_, said the voice in his head. _Be careful_. Butthead pulled at his trousers then decided that he was going to ignore it. He looked to see if there were any cops nearby but didn't see any. There were several dopey kids nearby. They looked like what they really wanted to do was make time with the two hot chicks on the motorcycle.

He felt the pangs of jealousy, then realized that he was closer to their age than the little twerps. If any dude was going to make time with those two chicks, it would be him, not them. He went to the front door and opened it. 

-(((O-O)))— 

Daria stopped her bike on the street, took off their helmets and waited. She and Brittany were still wearing dust-masks and bandanas and Daria was all too conscious as to how thin a disguise she was wearing. The front door of one of the houses across the street opened and Butthead walked outside.

_Game time_, she told herself, studying Butthead and wondering what her first move should be.

_Be aware of your surroundings_, her trainer had told her. He'd had her go through a Hogan's Alley set-up for civilians near Quantico five times and Daria had been "gunned down" three of them. She looked across the street and didn't see anyone other than Butthead out on the other side of the street.

There were people on her side of the street. Vixen, of course, a family that had been packing to clear out who were now frozen in horror, several teenaged boys Quinn's age or younger and a couple of older idiots with video cameras. She thought about what could happen if things got rough and winced. She and Vixen could probably dodge anything Butthead threw at them, but the civilians in general and the looky-loos in particular were likely to catch anything Butthead threw her way. If it looked like it would go the slightest bit violent, she'd have to get radical.

"Is that him?" said Brittany.

"That's him all right," Daria replied.

"I'm going to try to talk him into giving up peacefully," she said.


	10. Wardrobe Malfunction

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover. Chapter Ten

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language and for sexual suggestions. We are talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead you know.

Author's notes: One of the Worm-verse's resident experts on The Paper Pusher Message Board helpfully critiqued this story and caused me to either correct or account for several of my erroneous assumptions as to how the Master—Stranger mind powers in the Worm universe functioned and what countermeasures the Protectorate had put in place against them.

Daria: Back to Highland*Daria: Back to Highland*Daria: Back to Highland

Highland, Texas October, 1999  
On a timeline not far away

Butthead opened the Pettys' front door and walked out towards the street. The two hot chicks were still there.

He half expected the chicks to get back on their motorcycle and ride away, but they stayed put. Butthead couldn't believe his luck. Two hot chicks. The shorter chick had red hair like Daria and was red hot. The tall babe was even hotter. This was so cool. It was something he'd only dreamed about.

"Hey, Babe," he said, trying to use his coolest voice.

"Hey, Butthead," said the shorter hot chick. It was Daria, who'd somehow managed to become hot after she'd left Highland. He could scarcely believe it but it was true. He felt a brief moment of resentment. If she could be so smoking, why didn't she dress that way back when she was living at her old house?

"You look hot," he said.

"You look like…You look so-you," said Daria.

"Like what are you doing here?" said Butthead.

"I'm looking for you," said Daria.

Butthead's mouth opened but he said nothing. Daria saw him tug on his trousers.

The teenaged boys who'd been watching Daria and Butthead talking to each other first stared at Butthead wide-eyed, then moved in closer. So did the two adult idiots with video-cameras.

_Not good_, thought Daria. _If this turns into a showdown these guys are going to get roasted_.

"Uh, have you seen Beavis?" said Butthead.

"That's part of why we came looking for you," said Daria. "We gotta talk."

"Uh, yeah we got to," said Butthead. _Chicks love that stuff_, he thought. _Talk to them some, then talk them into Doing It._

_Would this work?_ It hadn't before, but that voice in his head spoke up and erased his doubts. _"You can make them do whatever you want. Just don't say anything. Just stare at them for a while."_

_Cool_, thought Butthead. He could do that. He stared at both them, both Daria and the tall blonde babe who was with her. Daria had turned hot, but the blonde babe with her was smoking.

"Hey," he said.

"What?" said Daria, licking her lips.

"I want you and your friend to take off your tops and show me your Thingies."

"Whatever," said Daria, reaching for the straps that held her tank top in place and began to undo them. The blonde babe did likewise.

Butthead smiled. _He was going to see their Thingies._ _This was_ so _cool_.

-(((O-O)))-

BUT THAT'S **NOT** WHAT HAPPENED IN THE UNIVERSE WHERE MY STORY IS SET.


	11. The Worm-verse It's Not Funny Anymore

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover. Chapter Eleven

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated "T" for salty language and for sexual suggestions. We _are_ talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead you know.

This chapter is also rated "T" for violence.

Author's notes: One of the Worm-verse's resident experts on The Paper Pusher Message Board web site helpfully critiqued this story and informed me that Daria's decision to seek out Butthead was risky, since the Parahuman Stranger powers are often linked to the Master mind powers in the Worm universe. In this chapter I ignored his advice.

-(((O-O)))—

Butthead opened the Pettys' front door and walked out towards the street. The two hot chicks were still there.

He half expected the chicks to get back on their motorcycle and ride away, but they stayed put. Butthead couldn't believe his luck. Two hot chicks. The shorter chick had red hair like Daria and was red hot. The tall babe was even hotter. This was so cool. It was something he'd only dreamed about.

"Hey, Babe," he said, trying to use his coolest voice.

"Hey, Butthead," said the shorter hot chick. He could scarcely believe it but it was true. It was Daria, who'd somehow managed to become hot after she'd left Highland. He felt a brief moment of resentment. If she could be so smoking, why didn't she dress that way back when she was living at her old house.

"You look hot," he said.

"You look like…You look so you," said Daria.

"Like what are you doing here?" said Butthead.

"I'm looking for you," said Daria.

Butthead's mouth opened but he said nothing. He then tugged on his shorts.

The teenaged boys who'd been watching Daria and Butthead talking to each other first stared at Butthead wide-eyed, then moved in closer. So did the two adult idiots with video-cameras.

_Not good_, thought Daria.

"Uh, have you seen Beavis?" said Butthead.

"That's part of why we came looking for you," said Daria. "We gotta talk."

"Do you remember what happened during the last several days?" said Daria.

Butthead wanted to say that sure he remembered, but this was Daria, the only really smart girl he knew, the only smart girl who would even talk to him, and also the only girl that could see through him if he tried to bullshit her.

"No," he replied.

"Nothing?" said Daria.

Butthead looked puzzled.

To her surprise, she believed him. Butthead was a lousy liar.

An alarm went off in the back of her brain. She'd heard about blackouts un health science classes during her last full year at Highland High. People who'd had too much to drink had blackouts because the alcohol had disrupted their brains' long-term memory processes. She later remembered seeing and noting several ferocious arguments among researchers as to whether some Parahumans had blackouts while they were using their super powers. Several supervillains had made such claims, a number of senior law-enforcement officials and prosecutors had argued the opposite. Daria hadn't paid close attention to the controversy since she remembered quite clearly what she was doing when she was using her powers and when she wasn't.

Could Butthead be one of those that didn't? It was possible.

Still, he was dangerous in the here-and-now whether he could remember what he was doing or whether he'd have a blank in his memory later on.

"Did you have any dreams you remember?" she asked.

"Like I remember a cool dream where Beavis was like fifty feet tall and I was throwing fireballs," said Butthead. "That was way cool." He smiled.

"Butthead, those dreams were real," said Daria.

Butthead looked at her in astonishment.

Daria nodded and said "Yeah."

"Uh, like where is Beavis?" said Butthead.

"Butthead, I have some bad news," said Daria. "Beavis is dead."

"What?" said Butthead.

"Did you hear a really loud bang earlier?" said Daria.

"I heard a big noise noise, then I got up," Butthead replied.

"Those dreams were real. You and Beavis went through downtown like Godzilla."

"Like Godzilla?" said Butthead. He and Beavis loved monster movies.

"You and Beavis hurt a lot of people," said Daria.

"Like it was only a dream," said Butthead.

"No it wasn't," said Daria. "It was real. Really."

"Really?" said Butthead.

"Really," Daria replied.

Butthead looked thoughtful and for a moment Daria thought that he was going to believe her and give up quietly. She had little more than a moment to think "Thank God, he's going to come in peacefully" when she saw something come over his face and Butthead's expression changed from thoughtful to angry.

Daria knew full well what angry people looked like, although she'd never seen Butthead really lose it.

Daria could almost hear her instructor at Quantico shout "Pay attention to your surroundings!" and quickly noted that the dopey kids and the video fans were still there, but most of her attention was on Butthead's hands. She could barely remember whether she saw the air shimmer in front of Butthead's hands before he shouted "YOU LIE!" or just afterwards. For the moment it didn't matter because that was when she launched herself at Butthead, forming a fist and drawing back her elbow just before he was within her striking range.

Afterwards Daria believed that Butthead was about to start throwing fireballs again and that the shimmering motion in front was his pre-heating or pre-launch setting. Either way, she'd decided not to give him the chance, not with so many clueless civilians standing around. She stepped forward, then hit him in the jaw as hard as she could. Her super-powered, super-speed blow not only shattered his jaw bone and his front teeth but snapped his head back so hard that it broke his neck. Butthead was as good as dead when he hit the ground.

"Shit," said Daria, shocked at what she'd just done.

"What the hell happened?" said Vixen, stunned by Daria's sudden spurt of violence.

"He was about to flame these civilians," Daria replied. "I had to do something to stop him."

"Vixen, you'd better call Central. I'm an effing mess."

"


	12. Reprecussions (The End)

Daria: Back to Highland. A Daria/Worm Crossover. Chapter Twelve: Reprecussions

DISCLAIMER: _Daria_ is the creation of Glen Eichler. _Beavis and Butthead_ is the creation of Mike Judge. Both are the property of MTV Viacom. _Worm_ is the creation of John "Wildbow" McCrae. I don't own that franchise either. This work of fiction is written for my own amusement, not for financial remuneration.

This work is rated T for salty language. We _are_ talking about a work of fiction featuring Beavis and Butthead.

Daria: Return to Highland*Daria: Return to Highland*Daria: Return to Highland

She knew he was dead. She'd not only shattered his jaw bone when she punched him but she heard his neck vertebrae snap with the impact.

"Vixen, could you get me my PRT phone?" said Daria. Despite her shock, Brittany walked over to the motorcycle, and dug out Daria's phone from the saddlebag.

The threat of violence ended, the bystanders began to move again. A middle-aged woman walked over to where Butthead was lying on the grass. She squatted down, checked Butthead's pulse, then carefully felt around the boy's neck.

"What are you doing?" squeaked Vixen.

"I'm a nurse with the Veteran's Administration hospital here in Highland," said the nurse. "I was just checking the boy's condition."

Vixen could tell that Daria wasn't really in any sort of shape to make those questions just now. "How is he?" she said.

"His jaw's shattered, his neck's broken, and he doesn't have a pulse," said the nurse. "I think he's as good as dead."

She turned her attention to Daria. "Jesus wept, honey, how hard did you hit him?"

Daria recovered from her shock just enough to answer "Too hard."

"Who **_are_** you girls?" said the nurse.

"We're part of the Parahuman Response Team sent here to deal with the two guys," said Vixen.

"Well, he's dealt," said nurse. "Was it just the two boys or are there any more of them?"

Daria came out of her shock just enough to say "Just those two," then said "Vixen, can I have my phone?"

Brittany handed Daria her PRT phone. Daria realized that she couldn't just stand there; she needed to start responding. Daria called her mother's law office in Lawndale. Marianne, her mother's assistant, picked up on the third ring.

"Hi, Marianne, this is Daria," said Daria.

"Hello, Daria," said Marianne. She talked like it was a nice, normal ordinary day in Lawndale, which it probably was.

"Could I speak to Mom, please?" said Daria. "This is an emergency."

Marianne, knowing the temperament of both Morgendorffer daughters and efficient as always, put her through to Helen.

"Hello, Sweetie," said Helen. "What's going on?"

"My situation here in Highland just went south," said Daria.

"I saw the stuff that was going on in Highland," said Helen. "Were you involved?"

"Not with the first boy but with the second one," said Daria.

"Not the blonde one?" said Helen.

"That other boy, the brunette," Daria replied. "The one who had braces. I was trying to talk him into giving up quietly." She looked around and saw that the cops were closing in. She wouldn't have much more time.

"Could you get a lawyer and send him to the county jail?" said Daria. "I think I need one real bad."

"Are you in trouble, Daria?" said Helen. Daria could hear the tone of parental concern in her voice. _Thank G*d she's not blowing this off_, she thought.

Now that Butthead was down, the police realized that they could move in. A Sheriff's Deputy walked over to Daria, his hand extended. "Miss, you're going to have to end that call now." he said.

"Real bad, county jail, lawyer," said Daria while the deputy fumbled for what was the "End Call" button on what was an unfamiliar cell phone.

-(((O-O)))-

"All rise," said the Bailiff. Daria rose with the rest of the people in the court as the presiding judge walked up to the bench and then sat down.

Daria had been taken down to the Howard County jail and was booked and photographed. Her mother got a lawyer for her and sent him to the police station, where she was being questioned by local and federal agents. Video footage showing Daria slugging Butthead wasn't yet on the air but was by nightfall.

Despite knowing that she could probably tear both the police and federal agents questioning her apart, Daria chose to be as docile and cooperative as she knew how.

She did answer some of her interrogators' questions: mostly the ones about where she went to confront Butthead and what her intentions were when she went to confront him. After that she said that she wasn't going to answer any further questions until the attorney sent by her mother arrived.

The federal agent questioning her tried to dissuade her from using one.

"Miss Cynic, you don't really need a lawyer," he said.

"Sir, my mother is an attorney. She insisted that I have one," Daria replied. "I'm going to act as if Mother knows best."

The police and federal agents had reluctantly allowed the lawyer into the interrogation room and the questioning resumed. At the end of it, one of the Highland policemen took his life in his hands and put his arm on her shoulder.

"Girl, I was in a similar situation," he said. "Sometimes you're in a life-or-death situation and you have to make a split-second decision as to whether it's going to be you or the other guy."

"Thank you," said Daria. She frowned. "But I could take care of myself. I was more worried that even if I could evade Butthead's fireballs, the gawkers either wouldn't or couldn't know how to duck. They didn't deserve to fry."

The policeman said nothing, then nodded. "I think you did as well as you could under the circumstances, but that's for the grand jury to decide."

At the end of her interrogation, she'd had to spend a night in solitary confinement a cell in the women's wing of the Howard County Jail. Released on bail the next morning, Daria had stayed at the home of one of her mother's old Highland work friends. Unlike she did at home, Daria minded her P's and Q's and stayed on her best behavior. She also had to wear an ankle monitor and was effectively under house arrest.

Her attorney, who was improbably named Perry Mason, had briefed her as to what she'd be facing when she went to court. "The assistant district attorney will state the charges against you and present evidence to the grand jurors to support those charges. The grand jurors decide whether or not there is enough evidence to support those charges and move your case to trial.

The grand jury proceedings being secret and no cameras or sketch-artists being allowed in the courtroom, Daria was in civilian clothing. Following her mother's advice, she chose to wear a modest two-piece suit, her hair styled and her face wearing minimal make-up.

Daria had worked on her own defense in jail and after her release pending a grand jury. She'd prepared charts for the grand jurors showing who was standing where, using both what she and Brittany remembered, as well as the testimony and videotapes of the bystanders.

The assistant district attorney's questions went through from her adolescence in Highland, her acquaintance with the two idiots, and her knowledge of their mindsets. She was then questioned about her intentions when she set out to confront them and what influenced her decision to attack Butthead.

"I believed that he was about to use his power to throw fireballs to burn me and possibly incinerate any bystanders who couldn't or wouldn't duck in time," she said.

More questions followed. "Why did you hit him so hard?" asked the assistant district attorney.

"I think I panicked," said Daria, taking a deep breath. "I reverted to the fifteen year-old girl who was facing a stronger, tougher boy and that if I didn't hit him hard enough, I wouldn't be able to stop him from burning down the neighborhood."

"And everybody in it," she added.

"Do you regret hitting him so hard?" asked the assistant district attorney.

"Of course I do," Daria replied. "I regret hurting him. I regret killing him. We'd known each other for years. I didn't like him that much, but I didn't hate him."

"Did you mean to kill him?" asked the assistant district attorney.

"NO," Daria replied, incredulity and outrage in her voice.

"No further questions," said the assistant district attorney.

The grand jury retired to deliberate and Daria was moved to a waiting area.

-(((O-O)))—

The grand jury finished their deliberations about an hour later. Daria was led back into the courtroom.

"All rise," said the Bailiff. Daria rose from her seat.

The judge looked at the grand juror. "Mr. Foreman, what say you?"

"Your Honor," said the Foreman, "We of the grand jury do not see sufficient evidence for Miss Morgendorffer to face criminal charges."

"Thank you, Mr. Foreman," said the judge. He turned his gaze to the table where Daria sat with her lawyer. Despite the fact that the grand jury seemed to feel that there was no reason to prosecute her, Daria was still afraid.

"Miss Morgendorffer, please rise," he said. Daria rose.

"There being no charges, and thus no case, you are free to go," he finished.

The judge used his gavel. "This court is adjourned."

The grand jury left, the assistant district attorney walked over to shake Mr. Mason's hand. "Good job," he said.

"Miss Morgendorffer, can I ask you what your future plans are?" he asked.

"I plan to go back to Maryland," Daria replied. "My family is there."

The assistant district attorney left, leaving Daria alone with Mr. Mason.

"I have something of yours," he said, pulling out a ski-mask. "You'd better put it on."

She did.

Daria and Mr. Mason remained in the courtroom. Daria and Mr. Mason still had a moment or two of privacy before she had to face spectators and the press.

"I was impressed by how much you co-operated with me on this case," said Mr. Mason.

"Well, I didn't want to go to jail," said Daria.

"You did very well on the stand," said Mr. Mason. "You answered the assistant DA's questions honestly and succinctly, and you didn't stray off topic.

"I was expecting them to be a lot tougher," said Daria.

"You know they were softballing you, Miss M," Mr. Mason said afterwards.

"What?" Daria said incredulously.

"The District Attorney didn't want your case to go to trial," Mr. Mason replied.

"It might have been arguable that you might have committed manslaughter when you hit Mr. Headly, the fact is that the DA really didn't want to prosecute."

He paused, letting the idea sink into Daria's brain.

"Like it or not, you're a hero," he said.

Yes, she was a hero, yes, she was free to go, but she knew she'd be carrying around her guilt for years if not for the rest of her life.

-(((O-O)))—

Great Basin PRT Headquarters. Las Vegas, Nevada

March 9th, 2012

"So did you sustain any injuries from your Texas mission?" asked one of the younger capes.

"No," said Daria, "Not so much as a scrape. But that mission was a turning-point in my life. I realized that I couldn't do it alone and that I needed the resources of the Protectorate behind me. That was when I decided to enroll as a Ward in Baltimore's Parahuman Response Team."

"Do you still think about those two guys?" asked another cape, a male with SLUGGER embroidered on his costume.

"Sometimes," she said. She glanced at two empty seats in the rear of the small conference room and for a moment she could see two dimwitted, ill-behaved teenaged boys cutting up on the back row.

-The End-

Author's note:

Some of my non-US readers might wonder what a "grand jury" is. Well, in Texas and other US states, a grand jury is a legal proceeding where a group of citizens empaneled as grand jurors view the evidence brought by prosecutors to determine whether or not there is sufficient evidence as to whether a crime has been committed. Grand Jury proceedings almost always precede an actual criminal trial.

Grand jury proceedings are not always fair or unbiased. Once in a while their decisions as to whether the accused go on to trial are affected by actions of the prosecutors, the defendants, and sometimes by their own prejudices.

.


End file.
